inside this night
light I see
my father stepping further
in the clouds – my fingers
reach to touch your place
still warm two years later, darling
when you sat there naked, lighting
your cigarette on a moonbeam...
Seeing your full face,
bathed in deep
backlight and mild pain
(and how I could go on)
in this musicless room full
of your bright memories
and the words
where were you at the night of 22nd this month?
- I was at home, writing poetry
then who is responsible for the outbreak of
World War I, World War II, the Holocaust,
the Armenian genocide, the Nanking Massacre?
- it’s not me
are you responsible for the Space Race,
the Moon landing and
the Cold War?
- no, I was at home, drinking water
were you a friend of Trotsky’s?
and what about Diego Rivera
and Frida Kahlo and were you in
- absolutely not, I was writing poetry
and drinking water in the desert
are you responsible for the sunsets,
the singing of birds, the beggars,
the tax system and the breast
- I’ve never seen any of them
and are you to blame of all the bad poetry
in the world?
- yes, oh my god, what should I do?
you need to wake up. now.
- good. I’m up.
is that better?
Tao of clouds
white in the endless blue
the wind blows in a gust
and the black shirt hanging
on the wire is flapping
Because light takes time to reach us, everything we see
is already in the past. The sun you can see out of the window
is 8 minutes and 20 seconds old
The dog behind
the fence barks
at nothing out there.
Peycho Kanev is the author of 4 poetry collections and two chapbooks, published in USA and Europe. He has won several European awards for his poetry and his poems have appeared in many literary magazines, such as: Poetry Quarterly, Evergreen Review, Front Porch Review, Hawaii Review, Barrow Street, Sheepshead Review, Off the Coast, The Adirondack Review, Sierra Nevada Review, The Cleveland Review and many others.