ONCE UPON A TIME...

 

 

 

 

Ice-blue skies above the lawn,  

sunwashed hooded mummers dressed

in orange and black, against the cold

the mocking dead stream by.

Barren trees lift sugared storm clouds.

Push and smile!  and who’s on bullhorn?

Just the press all caged in placards:

HAIRSTYLISTS FOR PEACE AND JUSTICE.

VETERANS FOR ONE MORE CHANCE:

 

someone sings the red-white-blues.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© Copyright 2013 by Cary Kamarat . All rights reserved.

 

Please share your travel experiences and impressions by clicking on 'Post a Comment' below.  Alternatively, send your comments to the author directly at dinosasha@juno.com.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PADDLEBOAT DREAMS : [Alexandria, VA]

Paddleboat dreams
that ply the golden foam,
keep time, roll on
like softly churning wanderlust,
each turn of the showboat wheel
bathing time in its wake—

                                                                                 

                                                             
 

 

 

 

© Copyright 2012 by Cary Kamarat . All rights reserved.

Please share your travel experiences and impressions by clicking on the word ‘comments’ below. Alternatively, send your comments to the author directly at dinosasha@juno.com.

MEDITATION AND DANCE, for Adi Dev

Stars reigning,
beneath a cloudless sky,
were deities we worshipped,
our former selves once loved,
before the many lies cast iron
around the many souls.


The first to dance,
attired in princely raiment,
was Adi Dev, first deity,
Adi Dev, first man—
first man to blend with womankind
in Vishnu’s arms of love—

© Copyright 2011 by Cary Kamarat . All rights reserved.

Please share your travel experiences and impressions by clicking on the word ‘comments’ below. Alternatively, send your comments to the author directly at dinosasha@juno.com.

TERRA CATALANA: Land of the Catalans

 

By the sea
there flows another sea—
an inland stretch of clay and loam
that seems to pitch and roll and rise
to a piedmont's rushing mountain shore.

A la vora del mar flueix un altre mar:

un tros de terra endins d’argila i marga

que sembla donar capficalls, i balandreja i s’alça

a la riba d’un peu de mont que decorre.



Fecunda ara com a la Creació primera,

s’escalfa al sol i al ric perfum de terra,

graciosa per la seva abundància,

embriagada com si fos d’un mesc d’amant.



La seva llar és plena de pedres antigues

que s’atreveixen a posar-s’hi bé, trencades;

afligides i copejades es belluguen

per sobre de les onades de la terra.



I les pedres necessiten sobreviure,

i desitgen el retorn i la tornada:

la mar de terra canta llur llegenda

en una cançó de mariner lligat al solc.



Cant de trobadors que fa temps es van perdre

entre els camps de batalla fumejants,

Cant d’amants i d’enamorats traïts

en oferiment a la Verge Negra.



Aquí el culte de Maria ablaneix

la falç i la dalla del segador.

Aquí les cames del guardià, l’ànima del llaurador

aguanten la maregassa de temps i sentit



per tal que els polítics i semidéus dinàstics

no s’emportin lluny el corrent de la història.



     Song of troubadours once lost
     among the smoking battlegrounds
     Song of paramours betrayed
     offered up to the Black Madonna


 

© Copyright 2012 by Cary Kamarat . As published by Hamby Stern LLC, in Prospectus:  a Literary Offering [summer, 2012]


Please share your travel experiences and impressions by clicking on the word ‘comments’ below. Alternatively, send your comments to the author directly at dinosasha@juno.com.

Cyber Yogi: A Modern Tale with Ancient Roots

Cyber Yogi went to market
to buy a kite for dancing,
for he knew just how and where
to catch a kite-tail in his teeth;
and with a hearty megabyte
he’d soar and heavenly prance
on the wings of a dancing kite,
to leave his prayerful wish
at heaven’s door—
though no one really knows for sure
where the door of heaven starts and stops—
but it’s Lovely Bright,
and easy to spot from a dancing kite,
so, Cyber Yogi went to market
to buy a kite for dancing.

Dodging, ducking all temptation,
badgering devils and bad vibrations,
he came to the crest of Old Kite Hill,
best spot in the market for spotting thrilling
deities, and such.
He paid his dime,
and with the power of a child who’s quick to love
and quick to climb,
he soon had them all looking up—
the young and the not-so-very-young—
looking up to where he hovered,
megabytten to the tail of his prancing kite,
looking up…
reaching up…
reaching up high
above the dance.

© Copyright 2010 by Cary Kamarat . All rights reserved.

Share your travel experiences and impressions by clicking on the word ‘comments’ below. Alternatively, send your comments to the author directly at dinosasha@juno.com.

Hushed Voices

(Kristallnacht, 2009)

Hushed tales
of ovens, line-ups pushed in,
darkness, where the heart-beat fails.
Selection now Satanic gesture; all these lessons
numbly nailed across the hearth, these cold confessions,
served as love and food regale our picnic
line-up, line-ups pushed in, tales
of ovens, coven tales.

© Copyright 2009 by Cary Kamarat . All rights reserved.

Long Coastal Highway

--Summer, 2009: Ocean City, Maryland

smooth jazz
summernight drive,
whistlin descant to easy jams
my own
Hound-o-Heaven just,
ridin shotgun ears flappinhowlin
judgments like biscuits,
to all them prettyround turistas...

© Copyright 2009 by Cary Kamarat . All rights reserved.

[previously published at: http://www.blehert.com/guest/gpcarykamarat.htm; and http://blehert.com/TheFederalPoets/Federal_Poet_Fall2009_web_opt.pdf]