Michael Curtis

Safe Harbour

1

She learned it early, that smile,

used the world over

to placate and to persuade.

She exercised it each morning,

quietened her children,

schooled her husband to good behaviour,

sent it before her each evening

into a room of laughing men,

taught it to earn tips at the bar,

let it spread from her mouth

to raised cheeks and tightened jaw,

coloured her talk with whites and reds,

employed it carelessly,

allowed it to play with a strand of hair,

look twice at the stranger at the corner table,

until insatiable nights

wiped it from her perfected face

and stole it from her eyes

2

So tonight

all the light

is robbed from her eyes

and the smile

once found with ease

when lighting our candle

takes ten seconds to compose

as she walks to our table

from the back room.

Her long peppered summer

has fetched up in August

weary as winter,

and now she must keep on walking

through an unbreakable dream

that brings no escaping

3

Like the dream

you’ve forgotten by morning

but doesn’t forget you,

your son dead, your father dying again,

the nightmare

that lies heavy behind eyes

that cloud for hours despite sunshine,

lamplight or even awakened love,

so the voice on the phone that evening

cannot be believed, the postcard

from the island beach in Thailand,

date smudged, must have been censored,

the e-mail confirming her arrival

forged, and the only thing

that can burn off the doubt

is another half-remembered dream,

unwilled, involuntary, but this time light

4

As the weightless catamaran

that straddles the countless fires

extinguishing and lighting the warm sea

on a risen morning

resolved to dazzle eyes

and burn off all effects of clouds

while the brief wakes of yachts

break cover to take their chance

and slake untethered restlessness

unsheeted at the exhausted wind

muffled engines screwing to the sun

as crews float between lives

5

Like us upon the salt of life,

swimming on the writhing sea

bathing in the showered sun

hugging shade beneath the pines,

purged of form, reduced to line

so recognition sheds disguise,

and sparrows peck at sparrow dunes

and sand flies fly across the sand,

and we follow the directions

concealed from the border guards

who only mistake them for maps

painted on glass quicksilvered by death,

and here we’ll find our way

while pedalos pedal families of five

lilos lie low in the afternoon

and the day glows in dayglows,

navigate a route through clouds

and imagine ourselves to light

until we settle to the smiles

that trade in nothing but themselves.

Steliana Palade

Michael Curtis

Port sigur

1.

L-a deprins timpuriu, surasul acela,

folosit in toata lumea

pentru a imblanzi si a convinge.

Il exersa in fiecare dimineata,

isi potolea copiii,

ii preda sotului ei bunele maniere,

il trimitea inaintea ei seara de seara

intr-o incapere plina de cheflii,

il invata sa castige bacsisuri la bar,

ii ingaduia sa se intinda de la gura

pana la pometii inaltati si la barbia incordata,

ii colora conversatia cu alb si rosu,

il folosea cu nesabuinta,

ii permitea sa se joace cu o suvita de par,

sa priveasca de doua ori la strainul de la masa din colt,

pana ce noptile nesatioase

i l-au sters de pe chipul retusat

si i l-au rapit din priviri.

2.

Asa ca asta-seara

ochii ei

sunt vaduviti de sclipire

iar zambetului

candva invocat cu usurinta

cand ne aprindea lumanarea de pe masa

ii ia acum zece secunde sa se compuna

in timp ce ea strabate incaperea venind spre noi

dinspre camera din spate.

Lunga ei vara desantata

s-a sfarsit in august

istovita ca iarna,

iar ea trebuie acum sa-si continue mersul prizoniera unui vis

ce nu aduce nici o izbavire.

3.

Asemeni visului

pe care l-ai uitat pana in zori

dar care nu te uita,

fiul tau mort, tatal tau murind inca o data, cosmarul

care s-a instalat apasator in spatele ochilor intunecati cu orele in pofida soarelui luminos, a lampii aprinse ori a iubirii renascute,

la fel si glasul de la telefon din seara aceea

nu poate fi crezut, vederea

cu plaja unei insule thailandeze,

cu data neclara, trebuie sa fi fost cenzurata, e-mailul care-i confirma sosirea

falsificat si singurul lucru

ce poate inlatura indoiala

este alt vis pe jumatate uitat,

nechemat, involuntar, dar de aceasta data suportabil.

4.

Asemeni catamaranului usor

alunecand printre nenumaratele focuri

ce se sting si lumineaza marea calda

cand soarele rasare din mare

hotarat sa ia ochii

si sa goneasca orice urma de nor

pe cand siajul vremelnic ale iahturilor

sparge suprafata apei incercandu-si norocul si-si domoleste tremurul eliberat

expus vantului potolit

zgomotele inabusite ale motoarelor inaltandu-se spiralat spre soare

in vreme ce echipajele plutesc printre vieti

5.

Asemeni noua pe sarea vietii,

inotand in marea frematanda

scaldandu-ne in soarele picurat

imbratisand umbra de sub pini,

dezbarati de forme, redusi la contur

tot astfel recunoasterea leapada mastile,

iar vrabiile ciugulesc pe dune

si mustele zboara deasupra nisipului,

si noi urmam instructiunile

ascunse granicerilor

care le confunda cu niste harti

desenate pe sticla din care moartea face oglinda,

iar noi ne vom gasi calea

in timp ce familii cu trei copiii pedaleaza la hidrobiciclete

saltele gonflabile stau dezumflate dupa-masa si ziua aprinde atmosfera diurna,

urmam cursul printre nori

si ne imaginam luminiscenti

pana ce ne incredintam zambetelor

care nu se ofera decat altor zambete.