Even More Writings From Dresden

Lol...ya...another one. ^-^

It happened, then,
When it rose, the fever-spiked
Hinting at maybe
Realness, from all this
And you were clear.
All that was, the illness
Became ash and dust
Winds came. Remembered-firestorm,
It happened, then
And someone reminded me everything
Circles in Threes,--still., here I am, waiting
For the Third
Which will equate to you.
What else? It began,
And regained. The difference
In December and
And February falls
In between

In one case:
Well, I identify with Rommel,
With the delineations in
European cities, the
Characteristics running
Tho' Time uses force, Swans
Enrapturing Yeats and Strauss,
We somehow
Develop along the same Lines.
And you, there:
Reading Auden and tracing
Out the last-fading
Bomber-paths, arced
Stairways, the vibrant
Eastern-Teutonic Sky.
You faced East, of course,
And I realized then that I had been
Praying for
All the wrong

If Yeats had seen Dresden
Perhaps a new view would
Have been bred--
Well: if free will is so,
Then to blame Time is
Ludicrous. Also to accuse.
You reflected
Colored lights, the softness
In mirror-images, thrown
Back fortresses.
Yet, not without
Coolness, and mossy underneath
You: as if in Coole Park
As if watching Auden's lovers
You followed Rommel,
Bismarck--then, that truth
And all the
Preconceptions that
Accompany it.
I saw you,
In Verdun--
El Alamein

This is written from Dresden
And it is the Hour
Before and
After. Superimposed on top
Of one another. Amidst
The senselessness--
This is written from Dresden,
Looking towards Berlin, the menacing
East, behind. Like a hellfire
Of Lancasters. The
Ashes dazzling, eyes and
All of it--
All of it!
And among this
Is you. Somehow
This is written from Dresden,
Heartsick and blinded
By incendiary
And unnecessarily so...O, yet...
This is written from Dresden

When it first came down
To choosing whether to be
Human or not---
I chose humanity
Well enough: every
Night in January, in
February I waltzed
The Streets of Vienna,
Of Munich, of Prague,
Berlin or Dresden
~ Except one night, that is--
One night ~
And humanity suited me
Perfectly well.
As long as you were
Encompassed by what
I was and yes, I learned
A new language---
Or applied to
And the swirl of cities
Surrounds you

The names, in themselves,
Are poetic enough. Just
To recount all the
Postcard-images, sought
And gained by taking my
Own set of stairs.
And you.
Salmon-colored tie and delicate
Prussian Blue...
O! Invoke them for me:
Where I loved you and I
Did, in imagined cities,
Old World and eloquent,
The poetic significance
In the Names only:
Berlin Munich Vienna
Rome Paris London
Without needing to be said, yet for you, only
Where I loved you

A/N: Next installment coming soon!