Continuum:
Poems for Autumn, 2011
Steven Federle
Contents
Continuum3
Failure4
Down a Bright Way4
Psalm4
blows the wind5
In the End
5
Silent Watcher6
Second Death6
First Rain7
turbulence7
I’ll Fill the Sky8
Our Love 8
Shoemaker9
the 1%10
Poet in the Coffee Shop10
October10
Oktober10
The Spider's Web
10
Das Spinnennetz 11
Night Fog
11
Miracle of the Geese12
Wunder der Gänse!12
Black Night12
Schwarze Nacht13
Черная ночь13
Brief Day Ends14
Occupy Oakland14
Bezetzen Oakland15
Wilma’s Welcome15
Prayer for All Souls15
Storm on Hunter's Hill16
Advice for a Madman16
Ratschläge für einen Madman16
Nocturne November16
Immanence17
Simplicity18
Sable Hills18
Continuum
My breath rises
to the edge of space
and pauses
at the nexus of perfection,
then falls,
driven by waves of fire,
by strong hands guided
through dust and rain,
through ice, through
the shining
vortex
to my upturned face
where a single drop dies
and fills me with
the storm’s desire.
Failure
The leaves are falling too early!
Strewn, green and pliant,
they drift to summer lawns
to wither and die.
Oh, heavily falls failure when,
not yet the season of death,
impatient winds tear and shred,
suck dry life's tender
breath.
Down a Bright Way
Close to the center,
near to where silence
fills my straining ears,
where long years
of searching end,
I find you waiting
my old friend.
You take my hand
and in a glance
know all.
Without a word
down a bright way
we walk.
Psalm
You say
"be not afraid"
yet this darkness is
complete.
A well of silence lies
beneath my feet
as I try to feel
my way back to you.
How can I be brave
when all around me I hear
rivers of anguish, tears
over-flow life’s banks?
Terror fills the sky
in dark flashes
as my sight declines,
and endless night
encroaches on the edge
of vision.
Will you lift me
if I stumble
and fall?
Oh, call softly
and with seeing
fingers I'll find
your healing
hands again.
blows the wind
blows the wind
by winter
enthralled, trees
shed at end
of day, end
of summer
world fall filled,
newly chilled,
crescent moon
disappears
all too soon.
In the End
In the end
will I rise
like cranes flying
through obdurate fog,
keen eyes splitting milky sky,
swimming the windy sea
to clearer air beyond
high dawn's
looming
trees?
Silent Watcher
Silent watcher,
see how the sun pales,
as gray clouds enshroud
jaded day?
Just tell me that you love me,
and I'll breathe you
a new world.
The fiery bird
will rise
impossibly high
into the leaden sky.
Watch
as I fill your eyes
with desire!
Second Death
"All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Death,
From whose embrace no mortal can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!
Happy those she finds doing your will!
The second death can do them no harm."
from The Canticle of the Creatures, by St. Francis of Assisi
In the darkness of noon
proud souls decline
from glittering heights
to October's stark truth.
Sacred fire ignites
their hopeless, sad flight
into sin and self-
separation.
St. Francis Day, October 4, 2011
First Rain
black spots
on pavement gray
steps
filled full,
candescent day
overburdened sky
no longer
denied.
turbulence
layer upon layer
pounding out
justification,
charged and ready to strike,
cold winds blow,
bright rains ache
ready to flow.
I’ll Fill the Sky
I'll fill the sky
with my desire.
With heart of fire
I'll scorch the pride
that binds you in fear.
The withering sun
I'll quench with your tears,
and shed my blood,
in a cleansing flood of
never-
ending love.
Our Love
Lightning
flashing in your eyes,
wind in your hair, gleaming
moon, passion
streaming.
It remains
deep in my heart;
unquenched desire,
our love's constant fire.
Shoemaker
The children watch his hands
strain against leather, tug
tough hide, obdurate skin,
once supple and alive,
now stiff and dry,
see how his patience
like love,
wears death down
until new shoes grow
in his strong hands.
They learn to bend
life's refuse
to new use
how being
always finds
purpose.
Thus, in lines of memory
we measure our days.
The ancestors guide us
as we build new form
from old tears,
and our children
watch
and learn.
------------------------------------Shoemaker, Hung Liu, 1999, oil on canvas, Crocker Art Mu
seum, Sacramento CA
-----------------------------------------------------
the 1%
blaring train
declaring right-
of-way,
elephantine, cyclopean,
crushing our lives
with their money,
their bloody truth
strangling the sighs
of the repossessed
as wall street swells
with the cries of
the dispossessed.
Poet in the Coffee Shop
new brew
roasting, flowing
aroma rolling
through
atmosphere,
machines
grinding, growling
out fresh
caffeine
and you,
awash in lilting
ballads, consuming
lovers
across the room.
Just keep your eyes down
on your honeyed-
words,
frenzied bees
that buzz,
and to song
burst.
October
Bright sun streams
pure golden breeze.
Green day fades,
red sun decays.
Pale moon flies
into winter's dull light.
Oktober
Helle Sonne Ströme
reine goldene Brise.
Grüner Tag verblasst,
rote Sonne nachlässt.
Blassen Mond Fliegen
in Winter ist trübes Licht.
The Spider's Web
The spider's web drifts,
abandoned, useless,
high in the window
bright in the setting sun,
close to a world in motion
but not a part of it.
Not immersed in the savage flow,
it is protected from wild birds
that caw in the swaying tree
peering down
at creatures bound to solid,
unmoving ground.
Their motion
is sacred motion,
but the web just aimlessly stirs
in a lesser, interior breeze
always on the edge
of the living sea
held fast by stasis
of gravity.
Das Spinnennetz
Das Spinnennetz driftet,
aufgegeben, nutzlos,
hoch in das Fenster
hell in der untergehenden Sonne,
in der Nähe einer Welt in Bewegung
aber nicht ein Teil von ihr.
Nicht in den wilden Fluss getaucht,
es ist von Wildvögeln geschützt
dass caw in den schwankenden Baum
Peering unten
bei Lebewesen gebunden an feste,
unbewegten Boden.
ihre Bewegung
heilig ist Bewegung,
aber das Web nur ziellos weckt
in einem inneren Brise
immer auf der Kante
des lebendigen Meer
hielt durch Stase
der Schwerkraft.
Night Fog
Fog rises
to black space.
The sea
overpowers
the sky.
Vapors swamp
unsuspecting stars.
Ethereal waves
crash
against night's
mystic shore.
Miracle of the Geese
The Catholic school children gather
obedient to the bell, silent, waiting
for morning prayers
to begin another day,
when geese
race suddenly above
tight formation crossing the
playground, stroking high air, shattering
our discipline with lusty
call, savage
song!
And the children,
raising their arms to heaven,
shout in praise
at the wonder and glory,
the holy presence
revealed,
the miracle of the geese!
Wunder der Gänse!
Die katholische Schulkinder sammeln
Gehorsam gegenüber der Glocke, schwieg und wartete
für Morgengebet
beginnen an einem anderen Tag,
wenn Gänse
Rennen plötzlich oben
enger Formation über den
Spielplatz, streicheln hohe Luft-und zerschmetterte
unsere Disziplin mit kräftigen
rufen, wilde
Song!
Und die Kinder,
mit erhobenen Armen in den Himmel,
schreien in Lob
an das Wunder und die Herrlichkeit,
der heiligen Gegenwart
ergab,
das Wunder der Gänse!
Black Night
Black night
shrouds my sight,
stills to silence
my failing breath.
Do you recall how,
by fierce day consumed,
passion's eye conveyed
love's light
deep into our beating hearts?
Glance up!
Oh, stretch back your neck,
raise
your sleepy eyes
and see how the tree,
thrusting to sky
dark branches, dons
the starry cloak
of night.
Schwarze Nacht
Schwarze Nacht
Wanten meinen Augen,
Stills zum Schweigen
mein Fehler Atem.
Erinnern Sie sich, wie
durch einen scharfen Tag verbraucht,
Leidenschaft das Auge vermittelt
Liebe Licht
tief in unser schlagenden Herzen?
Blick auf!
Oh, strecken den Hals zurück,
erhöhen
Ihre müden Augen
und sehen, wie der Baum,
Stoßen zum Himmel
dunkle Geäst, dons
den Sternenhimmel Mantel
der Nacht.
Черная ночь
Черная ночь
кожухи мой взгляд,
кадры, чтобы заставить замолчать
мой отсутствии дыхания.
Вы помните, как,
жестокими потребляется день,
глаза страсти передал
любви свет
глубоко в наших сердцах избиение?
Взгляд вверх!
О, уходят на шее,
повышение
ваши сонные глаза
и посмотреть, как дерево,
засовывая в небо
темные ветви, надевает
плащ звездное
ночи.
Brief Day Ends
October slips
past golden hills
as traffic
through the narrow valley slides,
glittering serpent
glides
past thrashing grass
while high atop the street lamp,
stands the black vulture,
wings extending
massive and dark
and still,
beckoning
this new season
of death.
Kurze Tag Endet
Oktober rutscht
vergangenen goldenen Hügel
als Verkehr
durch das enge Tal gleitet,
glitzernde Schlange
Segelfliegen
durch Prügel Gras
während hoch oben auf der Straßenlaterne,
steht der schwarze Geier,
Flügel Erweiterung,
massiv und dunkel
und dennoch,
winkende
die neue Saison
des Todes.
Occupy Oakland
Shouts in the night, chanting
streets, red streams, white
gas seeping through your skin,
your ears exploding with flash-bang
shells landing past the trembling camera
to where he lies, fallen Marine, wide eyed, stunned,
skull-split victim of this American night.
Just follow their money
to the headwaters of their greed
and you will see how they rage
against your need
until, at last,
it's your blood
they wish
to drink.
Bezetzen Oakland