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-Ioana Stan

Michael Curtis

Adapost sigur

1

A invatat de timpuriu, zambetul,

l-a folosit in intreaga lume

sa impace si sa convinga.

L-a exersat in fiecare dimineata,

linistindu-si copiii

si invatandu-si sotul sa se poarte frumos,

il trimitea inaintea-i in fiecare seara

intr-o camera cu oameni veseli,

l-a invatat sa ia bacsisuri de la bar,

l-a lasat sa i se intinda de la gura

catre pometii inalti si maxilarul inclestat,

si-a colorat discursul cu zambetul ei,

l-a angajat cu neglijenta,

i-a dat voie sa se joace cu o suvita de par,

sa se uite de doua ori la strainul din colt,

pana ce noptile repetate

i l-au sters de pe fata perfecta

si i l-au furat din ochi.

2

Asa ca, asta seara

i-a fost rapita

toata lumina din ochi

iar zambetul

odata regasit cu usurinta

cand ne aprindea lumanarea

se afiseaza abia in zece secunde

pe masura ce se indreapta catre masa noastra

venind din camera din spate.

Vara ei lunga si condimentata

s-a terminat in august

subit ca venirea iernii,

iar acum trebuie sa-si continue drumul

printr-un vis insuportabil,

fara scapare.

3

Precum visul

pe care l-ai uitat pana dimineata

dar care nu te uita,

fiul tau a murit, tatal tau care moare din nou, cosmarul

ce-ti apasa greu pleoapele

acel nor ce dainuie de ore in ciuda soarelui, lumina lampii si chiar dragostea renascuta, astfel incat vocea de la telefon

din acea seara nu poate fi adevarata, vederea de pe plaja unei insule din Thailanda,

data mazgalita, trebuie sa fi fost cenzurata, email-ul ce-i confirma sosirea

falsificat, si singurul lucru

ce poate sterge orice urma de indoiala

este un alt vis amintit doar pe jumatate, nedorit, involuntar, dar de aceasta data limpede

4

Precum catamaranul ce pluteste ca o frunza peste nenumaratele focuri

largind si luminand marea cea calda

intr-un inceput de zi

ferm in fata ochilor uimiti

si indepartand toate efectele de nori

in timp ce siajul de iahturi

iese din tipar pentru a-si asuma riscul

si a potoli nelinistea netulburata

neintins in fata vantului epuizat

motoare ambalate sub soare

precum plutesc echipajele printre vieti.

5

Ca noi vrednici de respect,

inotand pe marea agitata

scaldandu-ne in razele soarelui

imbratisand umbra de sub pini,

fara forma, aliniati

astfel incat cautarile sa fie demascate, randunelele sa ciuguleasca din dune

si insectele de nisip sa zboare peste intinderile nisipoase,

iar noi sa urmam indicatiile

tinute secrete de vamesi

care le confunda cu hartile

pictate pe sticla, intrecute doar de moarte,

si aici ne vom gasi drumul

in timp ce intretinatorii intretin familii de cate cinci

lenesii lenevesc dupa-amiaza

iar ziua lumineaza in lumina zilei,

navigam prin drumul creat de nori

si ne imaginam luminand

pana ce ne multumim cu zambetele

ce nu fac schimb decat cu ele insele.