-poems for Tanya

P A R T  N O. III

‘babe’

“hey, roll up your sle[eves], it’s time to go”
oh wow you know me
[that] unsubtle g[litter] in your eye,
of knowing of an unknown why
– ‘babe’- , you’re tough as nails, what got me on y[our] mind?
i chose once not to see
figuratively, you figured out the me i don’t k[now]

1/3

Print by Naoya Hatakeyama Lime Works

tour america

SPEND SUMMER WITH US IN THE GREAT WETTERSTEIN MOUNTAINS 

embark on a voyage of self-discovery with Günther Holst where you will conquer the mighty Zugspitze aboard the infamous Eibsee cable car

verzögern! find local Caroline Bauer, across from the ski lodge, where you will meditate in ‘Alles zu seiner Zeit’ following a brief seminar

join Liesel Förstner at the small brook nearest the commons for a lesson in horticulture and native plant species of the Bavarian Wilderness

looking to unloose your inner savant? wind down with Franziska Maier and her vast selection of wine from the Patrinkirchen Vineyards

Print by Bernard Fuchs Autos

-ANALOGOUS HYMNALS Pg. 23

ANALOGOUS HYMNALS

for the

CHURCH OF THE HOLY GHOST



Father, gracious, please be still /
I am awash in the wave of my last dry spell

Lord, most precious, let me see /
something to bide the time between the ghost and me

OH, the god of my fathers
I’m playing the part /
yet seeking for something as great as thou art

some / day / for / those /
lost / pure / pleasure /

a figure of speech at the cost of my valor

I.- Human Analog…………………………………Pg. 23

II. Holy, Holy, Holy………………………………..Pg. 13

III. O Come, O Come Emmanuel………………..Pg. 03

Print by Naoya Hatakeyama Limestone Quarries 

Desert

Conceived to dust! the fleet angel yells,
you buried my trust in a hand-written sonnet
Eastern promises mild enough to keep me wandering,
yet left me dry,
lapping at the river of dilapidated structures you called home

Print by Hiroshi Hamaya Snow Land

-‘ Somber

oh forgive me in time

for

your

matrona son is still teething on blessings,

forgotten cracked ceilings of the church where I prayed for my health

–  –  –

– , Netherlandish Execution / Nikódimos

The gulch of the gods who had once painted time
Now settle in dust to abstain from the climb

The glory of man left in pious refrain
Sincerity won in the god he had slain

The robin sewn sackcloth turned grey from his youth
‘Neath the bark of his zeal lays the onus to truth

Oh, God of our fathers, I’m playing the part
yet seeking for something as great as thou art

Paint by Pieter Bruegel the Younger The Procession to Calvary

The Lyric of a Shared Winter

The weary traveler wrote for a grey knitted coat that she wore one day
She made her home in the snow and for the winter she wrote for the warmth of May

The romantics of life yet burdened by strife, that which made her shy
In an old red cafe she left the thoughts of that day in her painted sky

Oh, for all she knew was once in the center,
The strength of her heart in the cold of the weather as he leaves

Yet the stricken old pine he had known for a time, hadn’t felt the same
He was a man of belief, of romanticized grief with a fragile frame

In a shadow he saw his refracting bourgeois of a tepid flame
In a corner he saw his Westerners flaw when she said his name

Oh, for all he knew was once in the center,
His feeble words that said ‘bye forever’ cannot stay

Paint by Pieter Bruegel the Elder The Hunters in the Snow