Perso in la biblioteca Umbertos

Leave a light on
so the bugs don't eat the books.
The grandfather clock
must be wound
so our heart keeps ticking.
Stock up on the stories
so you have many maps
and mythos to go.
The journey keeps us young,
but the last leg catches up...
You've lost me-
many times
in the labyrinth of
your enigmatic fantastic
winding fallacious folios
that make ones head spin-
Are they books or bottles
with memories as mixed
messages?
Translation tends to
misinterpret and blurs,
slurs, like tears on ink
there's a leak, (I think)
Ahh-look up-
always-the sky
knows how to read infinity
as long as your words remain
contained and
eternally with me,
I'll be happily lost in the library.


Image of painting By Unknown Dutch Master (c.1628) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

A golden jackal steals no fleece

A young jackal whose coat

                          shone gold, glistened in the plain

evening embers

raises his canine

                          nose in the air

just as the lion catches wind scent

kit for cat

and both beatific beasts,

                          noble in their respective

domains

                          deferential of each others persona

pride and posse appropriated

or clash

wearing naked constraint

                          acknowledged by the other, unseen

for each aristocratic hair,

stranded

adapted and august all ways.

In the crevices that morph

                           the middle meets them

converging

                          with coats and charms

a prey of allegiance.

In times of treason

the mice sail the ship

while the jackal giggles

and the lion sleeps

shudderlessly.

Composed 9/19/15.
Image By Thomas A. Hermann, NBII [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. Side-striped Jackal.