MITCHEL MONTAGNA
A Farewell to Sleep
Peace came upon me after midnight
It settled like the pale mist in a dream
Outside the moonglow was shedding light
Stars rippled on a silvery stream.
On shore we found glossy and snaking vines
They glowed ever-softly in the dark
Nearby were traces of shadowy pines
Dawn lit up their leaves like a spark.
I dreamt of highways and sonic booms
I awoke as wind teased out our names
All exits ahead were sealed off like tombs
A bank of clouds burst into flames.
I pressed for sleep but nothing would yield
In the dusk her skin flickered like ash
I knelt in the smoky scent of the field
I saw her shadow dissolve in a flash.
A Lady's Eyes
you’re feeling close to death tonight
as haunted as the faded light
like the life inside her eyes
that left a dark and empty sky.
the morning dust is pale as haze
and shimmers where your body stays
frail as bones so starved for breath
they drain the chilly glare of death.
her eyes were like a summer rain
as sunlight struck with golden flames
and pulled you deep enough to bend
for a kiss too beautiful to end.
A Silver Sea
If you are somewhere still
What a story that would be
Of a girl’s dance down a hill
to leap into a silver sea
Splashing far beneath the sun
Where the diamond waters glide
Drifting out till day is done
to disappear beneath the tide
Like a mermaid gently flows
Through shadows dim and deep
With her skin soft as a rose
and her face relaxed in sleep
What answers did you find
In hidden gold to take
Or leave untouched behind
like ripples in your wake
The sea is dried away
Scorched by an aging sky
Then a field of ashes lay
where spirits went to die
Catskill Ghost
Think I’ll go back to the Catskills
by its canyons and its streams.
Let the land undo my weariness
and soothe my troubling dreams.
A nice girl used to wait there
beneath the summer skies.
The sun put diamonds in her hair
and brightened her blue eyes.
We slipped beneath the forest shade
to seek what lovers do.
The leaves assumed a fiery glow
as twilight drifted through.
If I get there before autumn
I’m sure my faith will last.
Her light will shimmer through me
like a spirit from our past.
Catskill Mountains
The moon is shining above
the trees.
Its view is clear, the
night is blazing.
Something like a dream, lifting
us toward the stars.
We walk like ghosts between
sizzling lights in the sky.
Years of drought had
not yet come,
and turned these mountains
into dust.
Streams would wash
along the slopes,
feeding whispers
into lakes.
Every blinking star becomes
a diamond on the water.
Quietly we stood on shore,
the dark pool of sky
settled down.
Some return,
counting furrows
of ravaged earth
from when the rainfalls quit.
Distant memories, fogged
then changed, emerging
into fairy tales.
The moon is shining above
the trees.
Its view is clear, but
the earth has aged.
Summers cradled to our breasts
will burn like coal to emptiness.
Caught on a Face
I am caught on a face
like a fool in the rain
In daydreams I trace
a delicate plane
Where the sky feels too near
and wind howls from afar
Where a glistening tear
burns as bright as a star
The night air blows cold
with a sparkling frost
Her cheekbones look bold
but her dark eyes are lost
As if sparked in the haze
of a glittering moon
Time explodes in a blaze
that takes her too soon
Those mountains still stand
while our lifetimes are brief
A face healing and grand
casts a shadow of grief.
Dreams
You feel each day as walking death --
with faded eyes and shallow breath.
The memories of hope gone bad --
and lips you’ve kissed grown old and sad
have crossed your softest moods with pain --
and washed your smiles in tears like rain.
The only gentleness you keep --
still sighing near the heart of sleep;
your conscience loose from all you’ve fled --
it floats so painlessly ahead.
With every lonely dream of light --
a graceful glow throughout the night
and the ease of breath you used to feel --
when fantasies of love seemed real.
Electric Eyes
Electric eyes, though soft as tears
A daunting breeze, like spit and skin
Garage for burgers, bums, and beers
A raucous smoke, a blinding din.
His head is crushed, his dreams felt real
That midnight sway of dancers’ hips
He wonders how it all might feel
to kiss the smile on her lips.
Pool sticks clatter to the floor
Then angry laughs, their faces swim
They used to be his friends, he swore
With time, they all deserted him.
She lights a Kool, ignores the strife
With comet eyes, her wide face tanned
She burns a grin, and saves his life
Her palm so steady on his hand.
Eulogy
She was new in the family
And quick as a heartbeat
So the world caught just flashes of shadow She killed herself Sunday
Not bearing the pain
Of such a huge misunderstanding.
There was much that was frightening
and precious about her
Like those ideas of passion
she never could share
Her tears would glow strangely
As if caught in a moonbeam
While her fury burst forth
like a star.
Father locked her up
and crept downstairs
Pallid with unsteady hands
Halls flamed behind him
As if hate would catch fire
And pour from the breast of
the sweet dimpled girl
All alone at the top of the stairs.
Afterwards, somehow, we relived that day
Speaking like matrons
In a plush living room:
“She was poison, she haunted
the best years we had. Still,
hers were the brightest and shiniest eyes.”
Brother said
she was the only girl he ever could
love
Reproach
quickly colored the air.
Curiously that night
We all dreamt of diamonds
Spinning and dripping
Twinkling away
Some brilliant force
in a frozen black sky.
For Ann, 1953-1970
There’s darkness ahead, with reels of grief.
But on Christmas Eve nobody could know.
They gathered in church to voice their belief
in tones as serene as the falling snow.
Ann’s brother served me the ping pong ball
as she drove off wearing her silver gown.
Soon a carload of fools, drunks one and all
sped recklessly into the college town.
David’s parents were worried but I didn’t care.
After the holiday we walked into class.
All eyes focused on him in his chair
like an oddball caught in a looking glass.
The photo of Ann on the Tribune’s front page
showed a bashful smile and long-lashed eyes.
And an innocence that would never age
nor understand a world that could brutalize.
Now we are old men, David and me
having long ago gone our separate ways.
Is he dogged by ghosts of his family?
Does he hear their prayers on winter days?
For Cyndi in Florida
In the vein
of another time
I smoked rolled cigs
and coughed up grime.
I put on shorts
and roamed the streets
then lay alone
drenched in the heat.
A picture sits
close to my heart
of her blond head
held straight and smart
brushed with such care
its softness gleams
and hugs her neck
in quiet streams.
The seasons change
while nights turn cold.
I search her face
as I grow old.
She bid goodbye
with one last touch
that lingers on
and asks so much.
God's Will
You stand against the gentle
tides, that urge you back
into the deep; this terror’s
surely racked your bones, to
cross that bright and mighty will.
Your sadness staring down
the surf, as glassy-green
as emeralds; the sunlight
glinting off the waves, and
dancing brightly in your eyes.
All the gifts you’ve conjured
up, and all the dreams that
colored you; they seethed until
they burned your hopes, and
dried your blood with bitterness.
You cannot let them pull
you down, and drown you in their
soothing waves; too horrible to
go in peace, then find your
soul still cries alone.
In Florida
You wished good dreams would fill
their lives.
But emptiness had dried
their souls.
You followed beauty like sunlight
to oceans
and their boredom felt
so cold, so cold.
From where had they drawn those
smiling stories?
Bright as blood but you found no
life there.
The evenings were so quiet they
were wicked;
the mornings broke with a chill
in the air.
You arose when the sun filled your
window again.
Shadows decayed as the room
went bright.
Even the sweeping blue sky sometimes
felt sad
and the sun trembled with a
lonely light.
Irish Grin
The man behind the bar has an Irish grin,
and he welcomes you with a wink;
he serves what you like, from Keystone to gin
as long as it’s legal to drink.
Loud music is thumping, so people go dance
in a small room where starry lights whirl;
a drunk near the bar assesses his chance
with the vibrating form of a girl.
The bartender whistles and offers a shot
to a couple whose kisses run deep;
they laugh with a passion, with all that they’ve got
till they stumble and fall in a heap.
The drunk takes exception, they spilt on his shoe
and he pours his drink onto their head;
the bartender figures a warning won’t do,
so he grabs his shillelagh instead.
Meanwhile, dopers are freaking outside
as they study the glow of the moon;
they’re hearing what sounds like a wild cop ride
with sirens arriving here soon.
By the time the drunk’s hands are cuffed good and tight,
the dopers have long disappeared;
the lovers depart to finish a night
that took a sharp turn toward the weird.
Light finally dims, and the bartender calls:
we’re closing folks, there is no doubt;
patrons topple and trip, or walk into walls
while making their tipsy way out.
Now the drunk sits in jail with a welt on his face
and a lone tear blurring his sight;
he’d bet it all for one more chance at that place
and the girl in the blinking white light.
Islands
I think that in my final years
I’ll dream of islands far away
That shape the past through faded tears
Like lovers lost along the way.
I dreamt I brushed my fingers through
The firelight that filled her hair
And as the summer twilight grew
Our secrets stirred the drowsy air.
I think she kissed beneath my eye
Fixed shyly on her suntanned knees
That summer day she said goodbye
And left me painting memories.
Jersey City
The city is empty, except for the bars
that nurture the lost and burn up like stars
With rubble and ruin and Eden so near
it’s hard to believe that we once lived here
But I still see the soft dimming blue of her eyes
and the shape of her smile, once wistful and wise
And the form of her body, collapsed to its knees
on the field where we played, in the shadow of trees.
I dreamed I returned, bone-chilled in the rain
to the ground where she withered, grieving in pain
She still kissed my scar with a slow lover’s trace
while tears of compassion fell from her face
Such memories flicker as every heart beats
like neon lights dimming above city streets.
Jesus, I'm a Wreck
My heart’s no longer reeling.
It’s grounded to a fleck.
My spirit isn’t healing.
Jesus, I’m a wreck.
My shadow’s hardly casting
along the path I walk.
I’m seeing stars from fasting.
I’m hearing demons talk.
But I feel ardor burning
like flames trapped in a cave.
With nothing, I’m still yearning.
Forgiveness, I still crave.
I pray till my faith doubles.
I crumble to the deck.
It’s a lonely sea of troubles.
Jesus, I’m a wreck.
Labor Day
A veil of sun
shimmered on the lake;
a grove of pines
blurred in its wake.
Skinny girls teased
with burnt-cork eyes,
smoking Camels and
getting high.
Glare lifted like fog;
the heat bloomed,
like a spreading fire
through the afternoon.
Bleary-eyed dads
came off their chairs;
they staggered down
to the sunburned square.
Crushed by drink,
they stomped and cried
their dirty oaths
at the steaming sky.
The girls felt glee;
they felt their best.
They disrobed to show
their mothers’ breasts –
splendid and raw –
for the dazzled men,
that pitiless day
at summer’s end.
Leaves
The leaves are hot and orange;
they dance as they hit the ground -
as you’re walking in the fields
you hear their crunching sound.
The sky is dimming to violet;
it encloses you in a dome -
you feel its wintry shimmer
like a wind that follows you home.
Now the snowy fields are silent
as the dead leaves buried there -
like aged cries of heartbreak
gone to ghosts in the winter air.
Like the Dinosaurs
Evening came, and never passed through
It clung to the valley like smoke
The heat settled in and no earthly wind blew
A layer of clouds swiftly broke.
People looked strange in the dim purple light
Their pallor and features were gone
They huddled on corners and waited for night
But twilight just kept holding on.
Shadows had coiled like snakes on the street
A river was ready to flood
A figure crept close, wrapped in only a sheet
Its footprints were outlined in blood.
When the mountains fell, nobody would scream
The valley was buried in earth
A slow waltz of ages moved past like a dream
A dapple of sunlight gave birth.
Loch Ness Monster
In darkest lakes where spirits swim -
beneath the depth where starlight dims
a shadow deepens midnight’s tone -
and drifts through water cold as bone.
As morning breaks a mist holds still -
above the lake that sunlight fills
to find a serpent rearing high -
as a rainbow toward the sky.
The creature almost caught the breeze -
that cooled the mist and swayed the trees
and its body shone in lovely light -
that made its ancient eyes go bright.
Alas, the spirits cut it down -
then morning passed without a sound
but for the saddest cry you knew -
if you were underwater too.
Lost Girl
I touched my hand to your waist as you came to the door
I’d never seen those stellar blue eyes before.
Like dark shades of twilight stirring the skies
Like tunnels of mood aimed to hypnotize.
Then, when you smiled, I knew I could cast
every damn bit of business of shame from my past.
But I couldn’t compete with your immaculate whole:
The malice I hid or your generous soul.
So I closed down my heart, and left you betrayed
Certain with time that your jeweled eyes would fade.
But you hung with me close, like a hovering dream
And you cradled my soul, then the air turned to steam.
You are missing, I’m haunted and needing to know
of the footprints you left all those long years ago.
I swear I must follow; for nothing is right
They’ve torn me apart through indifference and spite.
When I find you, I’ll quietly huddle outside
and peek through your window with eyes opened wide.
I’ll dig through my conscience and find me a prayer
that your life’s full of wonder and people who care.
That you triumph in dreams and in those whom you love
That your spirit feels watched and blessed from above.
Then, I’ll retreat and move on with my load
Like a tired wind drifts down a long dusty road.
I’ll wander alone through each canyon and curve
Convinced that we both got the end we deserve.
Lovely Dreams
I cannot sleep
because I fall
into a dream
as beautiful
as summer fields,
the aqua skies
and streams are clear,
the sun is high
above the hills
that line the plains,
a breeze rolls down
as sweet as rain.
The petals spark
like polished jade,
the sunset blinks
and stirs the shade.
We see the light
is fading there
while whistling winds
blow through our hair
so that we laugh
and wail and seethe,
we’re sure the air
is ours to breathe.
I’m driving through
a dimming dome,
with air enough
for me alone,
the moon comes up,
the breeze turns cool
through lovely dreams
of lonely fools.
Middle Age Folly
Lurching hole-eyed and numb, he wondered if talking might
help. Maybe he could regain their respect that
way; he could show wisdom as the product of his experience.
He rehearsed during wretched nights: “Did you ever
look into a mirror and see something lower than dog shit?”
He gripped sheets as fever wrung him, sweat blistering
his skin. “I don’t mean that as a metaphor. I mean, really
lower than dog shit.” But he understood that it was
useless to try and get their attention, all those smug bastards.
He needed to feel bigger, but he knew he was smaller.
It was worse than those days in high school, when they
kicked his skinny little ass. This was no way to finish, it
should happen near the start: the agony that you fight through,
and laugh about years later.
Night
Comes a moment every night
As silence falls like gentle rain
When all your fears might settle down
Or rise into a roaring flame.
Some nights will cast a devil’s spell
That burns the faith out of your prayers
You cannot picture climbing out
Where daylight waits with fiery glare.
The fever broke like some great wave
Arriving from a distant past
Then fleetingly the air felt clean
And morning let you breathe at last.
Nobody is There
An unwanted birth, they left you alone
You grew up naked like a stone
And when your arms reached out for a mother’s care
They came back empty, nobody was there.
When you’re in the dark, a strangled beast
No howling winds, just ugly peace
Don’t expect a smile, don’t look up the stairs
You can be sure there’s nobody there.
The man is dead, the stars don’t cry
Nobody knew him, he was withdrawn and shy
And when they buried him only the graveyard cared
For as they lowered him in nobody was there.
On the Brink
The mountains stretch behind me
Wind blew me out of town
The morning sun will blind me
I rode the highway down
My friends won’t let me settle
I begged for scraps all day
Their mouths turned harsh as metal
They tore my heart away
The sweep of time will bleed you
It forces you to roam
Somebody else might need you
To find their way back home
A gauze of fog has lifted
As dawn broke through the cold
Bright banks of snowflakes drifted
I saw foothills painted gold
Pale Eyes
Your eyeballs dimming down –
they make a kind of sound
like silent moans we hear
when loneliness comes near
your hair lifts in the breeze –
like gentle, sparkling seas
that fade before the gloom
beneath a waning moon
your voice lost in the sky –
it used to fill my eyes
with thrills that pleasure finds
and tears as sweet as wine
your pale eyes linger on –
like distant stars long gone
that take away our breath
and seethe despite their death.
Parties
I heard a tune that sped my pulse
and had me outdoors leaping free.
It’s from a time that slipped behind
the dimming light of memory.
Its soul may strike a mighty tone
or mourn as gently as a dove.
At parties where we tried to dance
it taught us how to fall in love.
It summoned like a fairy tale
a child’s eager atmosphere.
It haunts us like a wailing wind
that died before it swept through here.
Rainbows and Moonbeams
A thousand
mirrors, always brown
eyes: dull, disturbing,
constant,
pitiless.
Something inside you breathing
wrong, you think
you’re a hero they
care for.
Dashing into a sunset
of burning rainbows.
You say goodbye to
window panes
polished metals
clear rain puddles.
All of you have
the same brown eyes, your
faces change like
moonbeams.
Shadows of Trees
We could be back near the bay
in the shadows of trees
where oak leaves would sway
in the soft summer breeze.
I once had a dream
to return there with you.
To our sidewinding stream
and our mountaintop view
and the nights you appear
when the stars fail to shine.
Your voice close to my ear
and your hand stroking mine.
Such passion might rise
through a long summer tease
under fanciful skies
in the shadows of trees.
Smoker's Lament
I pace the halls like a zombie leaking
blood and fire:
It must have been the fog, injecting a
disease I cannot bear.
But when I tried to set it down,
it burrowed into my throat.
I will never sing
at birthday parties again.
Turned out that sip of
molten lava was really an
invitation to the cosmos.
All ‘round the rooms, explosive
tangles of lightning and wire.
Their sizzling and thunder orchestrate
like a sadist’s tune.
The waiting, at least, is familiar:
Remember those vacant afternoons
stoned on lethargy, confusion
dissipating to disgust.
Creeping shadows reflecting
the loneliness in your eyes.
When you touched your face
you found it numb as earth,
like you were buried already.
The Breakup
The sunlight slipped through the leaves and burned my eyes
and stirred the honeyed shadow of her skin
We found milkweed where the bare creek used to rise
Its fragrance spiraled through our heads like gin.
There was nothing that I had ever wanted more
We must have hacked through that wild scrub for years
With a half-moon ablaze we rested on the shore
The glow that shaped her face was blurred with tears.
On sleepless nights I still can hear that aching cry
The mourning doves would haunt us like a prayer
When dawn rose it bleached the stars out of the sky
and warmed a breeze that swayed her auburn hair.
The Bright Last Night
Something is wrong with
the lights near the field.
They flicker and burn
like they’re groping for air.
Their tumblers turn
but the darkness won’t yield.
We had to awake
to dawn’s holy glare.
It flowed from the hills
like a river of stars.
We braced for the chills
so sharp in the air.
I’m driving alone
as the heat starts to rise.
My face wracked and spent
from the glimmering night.
And the sweet highway scent
of her kiss in my eyes.
The Ones Who Hurt
I used to think I had a golden spine
that kept me tough and true
But those girls rocked like a chorus line
and stomped me black and blue
Now Terri had a hopeful smile
and a dimming fragile light
Her eyes would brim for just a while
with a blues as deep as night
Then Sue with Dave went to the prom
with all that youth implies
Sue prowled the halls with a panther’s calm
spitting heat out of her eyes
And Mai danced like a hungry flame
while her perfume burnt the air
And no man had the guts to tame
the waves that spiked her hair
The ones who hurt disrupt my sleep
and keep me yearning still
Our wrecks like broken glass cut deep
as passion often will.
The Rose
You take a drag of
a cigarette,
and blow the taste up
toward the sky;
You do not see the
smoke tonight,
instead you see
her eyes.
They glow the way they
always did,
in swells
of memory.
And a sense of wonder
carried her,
like a mist
across the sea.
You’re sleepy but the night
seems real,
and your heart tells you
she’ll stay;
Her skin spins moonlight
into gold,
then vanishes
away.
Her beauty breathes your
dreams to life,
you still can see
it shine:
Her secret smile
like a rose,
across the drift
of time.
Winter
Our deepest fear of winter is
we’ll die before the spring -
and end our days as iciness
still beats its bitter wing.
For those of us in wintry age
the fear strikes every day -
of tired bones and fragile dreams
the seasons swept away.
In summer time the shining sky
would make her young eyes bright -
and warmed as gently as her skin
glowed through the golden light.
Tonight you hear her lovely voice
cry with the sweetest pain –
as cold winds rise and autumn fades
to winter time again.
With Her Pleading Eyes
With her pleading eyes,
and her panther’s
walk; and the way
she sits, with her
long legs taut.
And her smiles
like embers, and
her laughter like
flames, how could
she not have
electrified you?
Could you see her
walk into the light,
like a warm breath
on a winter’s night,
and her fearful voice
calling out your name;
how could you ever
have misunderstood her?
The shadows steal
across her bed, along
horizons of her face;
and her fragile dreams,
holding off the years;
what did you think
when the promises
drowned her?
Behind you so many
hopeful days, and
you feel for the
heartbeat of those
memories; but her
lonely grace and
her haunted face;
how will you
ever escape from
the silence?