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.

Alina Petrescu

Michael Curtis

La adapost

1

A aflat devreme ca zambetul

foloseste sa impaci

lumea si s-o convingi.

Il exersa in fiecare dimineata,

cand isi linistea copiii,

isi educa sotul sa se poarte frumos

si-l trimitea inainte seara

intr-o camera cu barbati ce radeau,

l-a invatat sa castige bacsisuri la bar;

il lasa sa se intinda de la gura

spre pometi si spre falca-ntepenita,

ii colora vorbirea cu alb si rosu,

il folosea fara grija,

il lasa sa se joace cu o suvita de par,

sa se uite iar la strainul de la masa din colt,

pana ce nopti nesatule

i-l stergeau de pe chipu-i desavarsit

si i-l fura din priviri

2

Asa ca in seara asta

toata lumina

ii este smulsa din ochi

iar zambetul

arborat candva usor,

cand ne aprindea lumanarea,

acum si-l gaseste cu greu

cand vine de la bucatarie

spre masa noastra.

Vara, lunga si grea,

i-a aparut in august,

franta ca iarna,

si acum trebuie sa mearga mereu

printr-un vis de neoprit,

care n-aduce nicio scapare

3

Ca visul ce l-ai uitat dimineata,

dar care nu te uita pe tine,

fiul tau mort, tatal murind si el,

cosmarul

ce-ngreuiaza ochii

innorati ore-n sir in ciuda soarelui,

a lampii sau chiar a iubirii trezite,

asa ca nu poti crede glasul de la

telefon din seara aia, vederea

de pe plaja din Thailanda,

cu data manjita, precis era cenzurata,

 emailul ce-i confirma sosirea

era fals, iar singurul lucru

care poate alunga indoiala

este un alt vis pe jumatate amintit,

nedorit, nevoit, dar de data asta usor

4

Pe cand catamaranul ce-usor

strabate nenumaratele focuri,

stingand si luminand marea calda

se hotari devreme

intr-o dimineata sa orbeasca ochii

si sa alunge toate urmarile norilor

in timp ce urmele scurte ale iahturilor

risca si-apar la lumina

pentru a stinge nelinistea descatusata

cu vela jos in lipsa vantului

motoarele se-nvart inabusit spre soare

in timp ce echipajele plutesc intre vieti

5

Ca noi pe sarea vietii

inotand pe marea-nvolburata

scaldandu-ne in razele soarelui

imbratisand umbra de sub pini,

curatati de forma, doar o linie,

asa ca recunoasterea renunta la deghizare, vrabiile ciugulesc din dunele

vrabiilor musculitele de nisip strabat nisipu-n zbor,

iar noi urmam indicatiile,

ascunsi de paznicii de granita

care-si inchipuie c-astea sunt niste harti pictate pe oglinda chiar de moarte,

si aici ne vom gasi drumul,

in timp ce unele familii merg cu hidrobicicleta saltelele stau pe jos la amiaza,

iar ziua straluceste in lumina zilei,

sa urmam un drum printre nori

si sa ne inchipuim ca suntem in lumina

pana ce ramanem la zambetele

care n-aduc nimic nou, decat pe noi.