The Noontide and the Chemist, Cemetery at River Savannah, it has nothing to do with the, Script, I’m not here you only imagine

5 Poems by Gabor G Gyukics

The Noontide and the Chemist

The funnel of a once to come quizzical Noontide
Edged itself to the lung-colored branches of ancient trees

A subtle Chemist surprised the seashore crowd by
Burning himself and becoming the subject of his
Own chemistry as he was washed away

The residue didn't register anywhere
Only a saw-toothed shadow of a scapula was seen
Later under a sinister cliff side

Cemetery at River Savannah

Leaning to the oyster brick fence
as ants order ants to labor
you seem to perceive
whips in their forearms

You won’t talk about the place
you ’ve visited in your dream
to anyone

With prewritten answers
you ignore the questioners

You smooth your forehead
the peeling of your skin
is wind blown dust

Under the moonless sky
your shadow walks the sun
to the other side

it has nothing to do with the

(in memoriam Ira Cohen)

say farewell to all the previous notions
walk among sleeping crocodiles
towards the center of colors
not withstanding to the magnetism of mysteries
below the crowds of nothing under the skies
along the chords of the infinite circle

with silent lips
with goggled eyes
with storming calmness inside your skull
your defenseless cells lead your invisible steps
across the forbidden zone

yellow fog feeds
your leftover body


Chairs never place themselves in order
we sit statue erect
there are no gladiolas
in the vase
no wine, no beer bottles
on the table
yet plenty of cigarette smoke
searching for the gaps,
we all drink liqueur,
stand carefully up,
step out to the garden,
the mosquito-net door is ajar,
the wicker chairs squeak after us
when we jump the railing above the gate
stumble on the dirt road
through waist high grassland
crushing weeds, flowers
not bowing to branches
tearing bushes to pieces
towards the river.
If we are not fortunate
we’ll get across safely.

I’m not here you only imagine me

I need enough hooks to hang my words on
I am hospitable to fleas
and once
where the air was caged
I was an untasted fruit
I carry false papers to cross borders
with the one I used to laugh with
I can hardly keep up with her slowness
the papers contain words
that used to be constipated

only the shadow of snow
was able to perceive
what they held inside:

acquisitions, gallivanting, consignment,
humidity, acceleration, reception,
or a wish
that what ever you hope to turn around was going to turn around –

the poison on your fingertips
seeps into me
around the corner
waiting for the wind
to take us further away
on its own accord

Gabor G Gyukics

gabor g gyukics's picture

Gabor G Gyukics (b. 1958) Hungarian-American poet, literary translator is the author of 5 books of original poetry, 4 in Hungarian, 1 in English (Last Smile), and 9 books of translations including A Transparent Lion, selected poetry of Attila József. He writes his poems in English (which is his second language) and Hungarian. He had lived in Holland for two years before moving to the US where he'd lived between 1988-2002, at present he resides in Budapest., His poems and translations have been published in over 200 magazines and anthologies in English and Hungarian world wide. Recently two of his poems were accepted and published in Cream City Review and Southeast Review in 2011. He is a recipient of the Banff International Literary Translation Centre residency in Canada in 2011., Gabor G. Gyukics established the only existing Open Mike reading series in Hungary in 1999., He is a member of the Belletrist Association of Hungary and the Hungarian Translators Association., At present he is working on translating the poetic works of North American Indigenous poets for an anthology to be published in Hungarian

Last updated May 23, 2011