GREEN GRASS OFFICIAL VIDEO - CIBELLE

album : The Shine of Dried Electric Leaves

www.myspace.com/cibelleblackbird

Woman on Waterphone

Poetry is a diary kept by a sea creature who lives on land and wishes he could fly. --Carl Sandburg

Where is one longer living besides, grafting trees?
With the possible exclusion of the tribe whose sounds

Are unscaled--and glistening--like shower glass,

With the rest of this bathing culture, no longer swimming

Instead clutching our chests for the cuttlebone--

This is natural history, a set-in brittle, legacy

But for the bowed, bent hymns of water.

Super Cool Liquid

Cirque d'Hiver

By Elizabeth Bishop

Across the floor flits the mechanical toy,

fit for a king of several centuries back.

A little circle horse with real white hair.

His eyes are glossy black.

He bears a little dancer on his back.

*

She stands upon her toes and turns and turns.

A slanting spray of artificial roses

is stitched across her skirt and tinsel bodice.

Above her head she poses

another spray of artificial roses.

*

His mane and tail are straight from Chirico.

He has a formal, melancholy soul.

He feels her pink toes dangle toward his back

along the little pole

that pierces both her body and her soul

*

and goes through his, and reappears below,

under his belly, as a big tin key.

He canters three steps, then he makes a bow,

canters again, bows on one knee,

canters, then clicks and stops, and looks at me.

*

The dancer, by this time, has turned her back.
He is the more intelligent by far.

Facing each other rather desperately--

his eye is like a star--

we stare and say, "Well, we have come this far."

Tube Worm Fossils Were Taken

Κένταυρος

Phase Change and Ultramarine

FOG NUMBERS

from Carl Sandburg's Honey and Salt

Birth is the starting point of passion.

Passion is the beginning of death.

How can you turn back from birth?

How can you say no to passion?

How can you bid death hold off?

And if thoughts come and hold you

And if dreams step in and shake your bones

What can you do but take them and make them

______more of your own?

______Of course, a nickel is a nickel,

______and a dime is a dime--sure--

______we learned that--

______why mention it now?

______of course, steel is steel;

______and a hammer is a hammer;

And a thought, a dream, is more than a name,

______a number, a fixed point.

Walk in a midnight fog now and say to it: Tell

______me your number and I'll tell mine.

Salute one morning sun falling on a river ribbon
______of mist and tell it: My number is such-and-

______such--what's yours?

Of what is fog the starting point?

Of what is the red sun the beginning?

Long ago--as now--little men and women knew in

______their bones the singing and the aching of

______these stumbling questions.

Torchlight

Water is in my mouth, a Nile is between my thighs,
I have come to extinguish the fire. --Ebers Papyrus, 1535 B.C.E.

Entering
_______you note this room
Needs a woman's touch, a tried quality
To treat the aching, that is your gaze your

Gauze, I've cast in civil language the sparks
Of the bedstraw, and its aging coming back
Further made up, yet this moment is our fluency:
Molded by sweat into the linen, a patient's indraft

Of dawn, yet like something the hand left off,
Placed firmly on a furnace grate too hot to the touch,
You turn the corner toward the tocsin curling
Up and over the hearth, the electrolier

Keeping my eyes on the electrician knowing
He is only
________a wire-pull away.