LynleyShimat Lys Poetry

Recent Poetry 4/08

Written in Egyptian Cafes in Astoria

Watching

 

In your eyes

When you watch me

I see all things

The way the light falls,

Reflective, mirroring

The myriad facets

Of your gaze,

Holding me in focus.

Translation

Is its own art:

To write the lyric

Of your expression

Eludes language

Not merely

My mother tongue

But every linguistic

Equivalent

Lacks

That subtle eloquence

Of your perceiving

All things in me.

Your watching

Carries a slow

Effacement

Of jagged lines

Built up in me

Until I gleam

A polished ore

In your seeking me.

The Arcades

 

An energy

Between us


Crackles and


Sparks,


Illuminating


Enlightening


Concealed


Potentials


Arcades


Of glass


To reflect


The currents of


The Seine.


I need sunglasses


When normalcy


And the everyday


Quotidian events


Only serve to focus


And distill


The light’s reflection


Off the mist that


Hangs in the air,


The electricity


Between us.

I breathe

And the subway

Is an ocean.

Another breath

The passengers –

Schools of fish

In rainbow colors.

Wind through tunnels –

Water rushing,

Currents foaming

Against a shore

Of seagull calls.

Life is tied to breath

As it is to water

As to subways in the City.

 

Astoria Hookah Bar

 

Music floats out

Into the room

From a corner screen.

A family in burkas

Sits calmly, languidly

Watching me smoke,

Canteloupe, what a flavor.

Is it serious or tourist fare?

 

The menu lists hot lemon,

Tamarind, kharob

Drinks. I could almost be

Back in Gaza, Tul Karm,

East Jerusalem.

Pink headscarf, yellow scarf,

Black scarf

And watching me

disinterestedly.

What am I seeking here,

Authenticity? A reminder

That I was once

In the Middle East,

That these countries

Exist, that fascinate me.

Am I being rude?

Orientalist?

Who am I here?

Do I exist?

If the subaltern speaks

Who will listen?

Edward Said?

And how to listen to

What is heard?

What do I hear?

Arabic strikes my ear.

Egyptian already filtered

To me through Hebrew,

Palestinian dialect,

Standard Arabic, al fus-ha.

Ornate tables

Elaborate water pipes

Ululating ballads.

Most people talk

Of mothers, sons

Daughters,

Household lives,

Work.

Does culture change

Daily lives from one

Language to another?

The screen shows

Candles, roses, a woman in red,

A man walks alone,

Dancing, but not like Bollywood.

A long slow song.

Love ballads differ

Only in details,

Accents, dialects.

Here the boys return.

On tv, a skiing accident,

A woman tilts her head,

Swishes her hair.

The boys emit English,

The women in burkas, Arabic.

Bilingual, my genre.

I added sugar to hot lemon,

No sucrazit available,

That saccharine substitute

Like “inauthentic” Israel

The melting pot simmering

Over the coals of its divisions,

Its fiery history.

La, la – no, no.

I transcribe in broken

Judeo Arabic.

Lemon warm

Breathe in, exhale,

Slow breathing to music rhythm.

I’m the caterpillar.

Cool air seeps in,

Service here is languid.

With my evil eye protector necklace

I must look Sephardic

Or just a strange hippy

Soaking up the atmosphere.

Rhythm fitting Bollywood

Seeps to me, a dance melody

Plays, stirring instincts

To motion.

Astoria Transports Me  



Astoria transports me

To French Egypt bakeries,

Hookah bars, cafes.

A puff of breath

I cross to Gaza,

Yallah, yallah,

Hurry up.

Violins, accordion,

Smoke curls in air.

Couches draped

With fringed

Throw cushions.

Sweet scent

of canteloupe tobacco

& lemon essence.

Beets blood red,

Grilled.

Green ceiling littered

With colored glass

Lanterns. Dance clubs.

I love music

With a beat that calls

My body to the dance

Floor, to move

In rhythm.




I Think of You   


I think of you even

In Israel

& Palestine, in cafes

and dancing, absorbing

culture, learning Arabic,

Yiddish, Russian authors.

Critical essays bring

your name

To my lips, my pen.

I inscribe you in every

medium, smoke to lyric,

folklore to theory.

I DO write about you.

I dance and breathe

everything we said

each gesture.

relaxing, sleeping,

writing, you hover

around me, take

up residence In my mind.

I write you poetry.





I Move For You.
 


Let the credits


Roll in Arabic.


I want to show you


How I breathed


In Israel & Palestine.


You belong with me.


I give you my stories,


A dance mix, a club


Rhythm song

I give you.

I move for you.

Discourse

 

We offer each other

A brother language,

A sister tongue,

Encoding in lyric,

Dialogue.

We inscribe

A pidgin dialect

All our own,

A fluid discourse

Of verbal ballet.

 

I am learning

How you speak,

Expressing

What you cannot say

In myriad themes

And layered meanings.

Motion  


I have feared


Forces that sleep


In me.


You seek them out.


I must face this


Union


Without fear,


Or knowing

In the face of fate

I choose my course,


Moving with whatever


Moves me,


Embracing directions


That flow within me.


I breathe because


I must.


I breathe to


Cease seeking


And to find.