Thursday, 12 November 2009

Observer by Kanev Peycho

I am feeding on sunshine
and fading moon light,
pouring my poems into bottles of wine
and later find them on the bottom

I walk;
I lick the morning mist from
the street-cars and dream about their
desire

most of the times I am lazy like
Sunday morning,
and at some other times I pace across
the projects and the gutters of the city
where all the stars of the world blazed
for the first time

but

where are you right now Allen G. to show
me how to smoke joint or roar Ommmmm;
where are you dwelling Robert F. to teach
me how to shake hands with the big wigs;
where are you Ezra P. to find out how not
to go mad or speechless or old or dead;
where are you smiling Robinson J.?
I know-with your sun and eagles and loneliness.

I will try
not to be like you
when right now I don’t look even like myself.
You wrote the right words
and I will drink this bottle right now
without thinking of you for the rest
of the day.


Kanev Peycho, Chicago, IL, USA

5 comments:

Crafty Green Poet said...

Peycho Kanev loves to listen to sad music while he drinks slowly his beer. His work has been published in Welter, Gloom Cupboard, Off Beat Pulp, Nerve Cowboy, Chiron Review, Outsider Writers, Mad Swirl, Side of Grits, Southern Ocean Review, The Houston Literary Review and many others. He loves to put the word down and not talking on the cell phone for days. He is nominated for Pushcart Award. He lives in Chicago. His new collaborative collection "r", containing poetry by him and Felino Soriano, as well as photography from Duane Locke and Edward Wells II is now available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/r-Peycho-Kanev/dp/0979129494/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1245429788&sr=1-1

withoutwordswouldyouknow said...

of wanting and not wanting to be like someone else

Poetikat said...

Ah, if only we could summon up those poets from the past to guide us—without compromising our own selves. Lovely piece.

Anonymous said...

Lovely. Strong and beautful voice!

Karen said...

How hard not to think of them. Not even looking like ourselves - so right.