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NIGHT ARRIVES (After TU FU) I watch the moon rise. It rises without thought. It rises without pain. And when I’m gone, it will rise again. But what is that to me? Birds no longer sing. I stare at my unmade bed. Forty years ago my wife and I wed. My tears have now been shed. The clouds open, as if giving birth to nothingness. The night closes in like a fist with grim finality. Stars emerge in a black sky, and light the night with a merciless irony. THE FASCINATION OF POETRY (After SU TUNG PO) The sparrow builds his nest, but the wren sleeps in it. The world’s a nasty place, even for the human race. Stars dance as if the universe was inhabited by elves. But December winds nose through the street like angry swine, searching for scraps to eat. Half drunk, I watch from my doorway. The moon goes up like a curtain on a play. The show is old and stale. The end is predetermined. Yet I’m unable to turn away. POEM (After LI PO) The clouds disturb my mind. I walk in their shadow, as they absorb the light. Theirs is a dialogue with the night. The moon appears in solitude. I know nothing of what it thinks. It has nothing to say. It will simply go away. Crows curse the sky. But nothing replies. I think my life has been wasted. But to whom should I apologize? George Freek is a poet/playwright living in Illinois. His poetry has recently appeared in Hamilton Stone Review, Samizdat Literary Journal, The Lake, The New Plains Review, The Stillwater Review, Literature Today, and The Tower Journal. His plays are published by Havescripts, Inc., Playscripts, Inc., Lazy Bee Scripts (UK), and Off The Wall Plays (UK). gfreek@juno.com |
