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.

Teodora Georgescu

Michael Curtis

Port sigur

1

L-a invatat devreme, acel zambet,

se folosea de lume

pentru a o impaca si pentru a o convinge.

L-a exersat in fiecare dimineata,

isi potolea copiii,

si-a invatat sotul sa se poarte frumos,

l-a trimis inaintea fiecarei seri

intr-o camera plina cu barbati ce rad,

l-a invatat sa castige bacsisi la bar,

l-a lasat sa se imprastie incepand de la gura pana la obrajii ridicati si falcile incordate,

si-a colorat limbajul cu alb si rosu,

il folosea fara griji,

ii permitea sa se joace cu o suvita de par,

sa se uite de doua ori la strainul de la masa din colt,

pana cand nopti nepotolite

i l-au sters de pe fata-i devenita perfecta

si i l-au furat din ochi

2

Asa ca in seara asta

toata lumina

ii este furata din ochi

si zambetul

odata gasit cu atata usurinta

atunci cand ne aprindem lumanarea

dureaza zece secunde pentru a se forma

in timp ce ea se indreapta la masa noastra

din camera din spate.

Vara ei lunga si plina de aventuri

s-a sfarsit in August

istovita ca iarna,

si acum ea trebuie sa-si continuie drumul printrun vis de neoprit

care nu aduce nicio scapare

3

Ca visul

pe care il uiti pana dimineata

dar care nu te uita pe tine,

fiul tau mort, tatal tau ce moare din nou, cosmarul

care atarna greu in spatele pleoapelor

care se intuneca ore in sir in ciuda luminii, lumina lampii sau chiar dragostea reinviata, asa si vocea de la telefon din seara aceea

nu poate fi crezuta, cartea postala

din insula din Thailanda,

o pata pe data, trebuie sa fi fost cenzurata, e-mailul ce confirma sosirea ei

falsificat, si singurul lucru

care poate alunga indoiala

este inca un vis pe jumatate amintit,

nedorit, involuntar, dar de data aceasta mai usor

4

Asemeni catamaranului usor

ce incaleca nenumaratele focuri

care se sting si se aprind pe marea calda

la inceputul unei dimineti

hotarate sa ia ochii

sa inlature umbra norilor

in timp ce scurta trezire a yahturilor

ce ies de la adapost si-si incerca norocul

si potolesc setea nelinistilor

neadapostite de zgomotul inabusit

al motoarelor obosite ce se-ndreapta catre soare

in timp ce echipaje de salvare plutesc printre supravietuitori

5

La fel ca noi pe sarea vietii,

innotand pe marea zbuciumata

imbratisati de soare

imbratisand la randul nostru umbre dedesubtul pinilor,

curatati de forma, redusi la o linie

astfel incat masca aluneca,

iar vrabiutele ciugulesc din dune

si musculite de nisip zboara deasupra nisipului,

iar noi urmam indicatiile

ascunse de gardieni

care le iau drept harti

desenate pe sticla din care moartea isi face oglinda,

si aici ne vom gasi drumul

in timp ce familii a cate cinci pedaleaza la hidrobiciclete

saltele stau dezumflate la amiaza

iar ziua straluceste in lumina zilei,

o sa navigam printre nori

si o sa ne imaginam ca luminam

pana cand ne oprim asupra zambetelor

care nu au alt pret, decat pe ele insele