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Edjo Frank


She Mali

bare feet in the sand
toes point to the sky
blood stains
on the cotton dress
folded as a flag
over the body
 
silence
between the sand dunes
except for the high screams
of desert vultures
exercising patience
 
men with arms
heads covered with cloth
their lethal visit
betrayed
by the silent witness
of tire tracks
 
layers of clotted salt
cover valleys
where once slots
intersected her face
tears dried long ago
when spirits flew
on a high wind
promised
never to come back
 
she folds her hands
muttering words
only the mullah understands
wind pulling at her hair
as a tug trying
to free the wreck
battered against the rocks
 
in vain
 
what has been taken
will not be given
what was most precious
deprived of soul
leaving behind
the senseless legacy
of elusive religion
in a confused world
of thoughts called
mankind
 

Failure

I touch her lily skin
she feels cold, I feel rejected
sweat beads on my arms
no final words are said
leaving helplessness behind

no sound, no movement
bedroom frozen in sunbeams
my eyes rest on the field bouquet
showing shameless beauty
instead of dreadful mourning

a snakelike flower smiles
I tear the white petals
the nakedness of her yellow heart
looks at me, bewildered
in the palm of my hand

 horror screams escape my breast
drift silently on the wind
to shores I know of former times
where innocence saturates the soul
and love knows no restraints

I take my coat, I close the door
fists clenched in pockets deep
emphasize the failure of a row
the body has a way ahead
the mind ceased long ago

Farewell

the imprint of your face
etched in a pebble
of my mind
and the last light
left the blue
of your eyes
in my empty hands
at the end of summer

​
Picture
Picture

Edjo Frank profile
​
Go to page 2 of Edjo Frank's poetry

Book, slipper, cat

humbly for wind and god
time crumples the book
chagrin chases forgotten words
of no name or yesterday
you put off your reading glasses
there is nothing to be understood
of a hooked story
of dark after dusk
of howling from the airshaft
of draft that makes your legs freeze
shudder taunts himself up
fills the cavities of your skull
nests in the deep holes
of an uprooted memory
saliva dripping little strings
on the veins of your hand
your trembling hand
opens by a spasm
the book falls
your slipper kicks
the cat looks disapprovingly
or is this just imagination

When our eyes met

yesterday
when our eyes met
we remembered
things
happening long ago
that shaped our lives
and we knew
we share stories
from the beginning of times
when seeds were planted
to become
who we are
and dream
of what may be 

Stanislawow - Ukraine
(1943)

silenced and afraid
they walked the row of doom
the forest waiting
 
hold my hand mama
I want to be at your side
when our turn has come
 
soothe my child, be calm
it will not take long to die
we’ll never be apart
 
in these secret woods
hidden under cloth of ferns
nameless names seek peace

Smile

the rain waves goodbye
in the chill of early morning
a narrow strip of light
stands out against eastern horizon
I smile
 
footpath in the swamp
marriage between gravel and mud
nettles to hide the curves
snakeweed lures me to the waters
I smile
 
white sheep sail a blue sky
the wind holds her breath
at the far end of the field
the gundogs rush a grouse
I smile
 
nature’s heart counts time and space
unchallengeable its creation
to feel and touch the pulse of life
embrace my loneliness
I smile

            Widower

I know where you are
the gravel path and then left
a bunch of flowers

Go to page 2 of Edjo Frank's poetry

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