the reunification

When i dream i dream of loving you through it all and you loving me, cause the world can be processed cheese and nothing nice on a sesame roll of dice. i still want you maybe five or ten times a day while you're away, you call me and i call you and we find ourselves free and working citizens, no game, no fame, just sunning on the ordinary sands, paid in sand dollars and buttering the skin with oils. i got afraid when you wanted to move in with me. i am so used to living alone and rather like it. but last night when reading a story about some fugitives in Germany, i realized that behind the heinous crime spree were people in desperate need to be loved. they found one another in that predicament i suppose. broken families, broken economies. a good deal of sadness turned to hate in the heart of a child who knows not what to do with it. violence comes of a hateful heart if you do not learn the alchemy. nothing excuses the criminals their crimes. i saw a window into their lives as they borrowed identities from friends and secured small apartments for the three of them to live. they played video games and the woman had a cat. they had romances between them and accepted it. they drank wine and read indoctrinating books. they took holiday on the Baltic Sea. for whatever intention people come together, good or bad, ideological or not, the deeper intention seems to me to be the coming together itself, in a world which has crumbled around them. the Berlin Wall went down not long before them, and they were seeing the West with fresh eyes, while the West was seeing them for profit in a market. clearly reunification was gonna be arduous and exciting. if only we all could come together around a good cause. but it cannot be. the point is the coming together, the bond. life energy and life's fulfillment circulate through the bond, the comradery. the intention matters less. such is the way of the world. the crime spree went on the better part of a decade, the National Socialist Underground. they didn't always take credit for their atrocities but they were a known terrorist cell and informants (they call 'assets') all around. but the intel was weak and the investigation poor. the families of the victims, victimized. finally the two men were dead in the back of a camper, after robbing a bank. the woman would be hunted and turn herself in. she is imprisoned to this day. Beate. she is alone again. i am so used to living alone and rather like it. i got afraid when you said you wanted to move in with me. but after i saw the movie and read the book, i really cannot stop thinking about you and me, coming together for all time, as time passes away from us.

the czech (a poem)

'The Czech'
dedicated to Daniela


She held the whole scene
in macro
nested
in her chopped
disenfranchised
hair

She held the energetics
In a moving
fashionable
current
rush

By land
air
 sea
   dream
      scape

original
choppy
draft copy


the lens
through which she
saw was
the lens
through which we all
saw was
rose

in spring
in fall
in summer
in winter
bloom

a slight
tinge of
homage to
tributary from
homeland

which called
and called
and called
and dialed up
incense

hot
hot
choppy
heat

There she was
cross-legged
in the foreground
my friend
the Czech

Choppy Dialect
wraps of scarves
continuity of thought
provoking
action

There she was
my friend
the Czech
dispossessed
brilliant
provocative

Having traveled so very far
her heart
wrapped in silks
placed
non-chalantly
in my lucky
lost
life

She loved to dance
she could recite a mantra
She enjoyed a vodka
and maybe a smoke

or two
or three
or ten
thousand
never enough

She traveled by Jeep
through tunnels
through lucid dreams

When we got together
when she arrived
i felt the reunification
every time
with all my heart
what was left of it

She would
humbly disown
generously loan
whatever she had
if she could
and did

Still I could never
get enough
of her


We traveled by Jeep
when we could
the fabric
our friendship
around us

And the light
many a dark night
collected around her
and sustained us

The light
what was left of it
collected around us
sustained us
until dawn

the light
collected
sustained
the fabric
my friend
myself
And
threaded
the dawn

-by Katya 09/13