Michal Lapinski Studio
NOCTURNES
Collection
THE LEPRECHAUN SONATA
1. Andante con variazioni
The headless snake
a truncated mandala
two-tailed crescent
of silver greed
is moving across the church's floor
like a flying saucer filled with venom
towards the altar
towards me.
Move quietly away, don't run,
just keep a step ahead —
enough to stay apart
enough to stay in touch.
Now close the door, beware
and keep it firmly shut
although it's of no use
because the space between
is open to countless possibilities.
The unfinished equation draws near, alas
transforms, converts, pops up
and here it comes along:
The leprechaun,
a creature of many guises
with unknown, familiar legs
and the mouth — not nice to look inside —
false teeth, bad breath, fractured principles
it really stinks
like a bad dream
2. Adagio lugubre
The shipwreck coast, a line of shadows
no vessels, no wrecks on show
no shepherds on the rocks
just holes in the water which falls over and curls
into the muddy past which sleeps inside.
Feel invited, feel welcome
to the mud, to the silt and the cold
to be enveloped by numb discomfort
of abated, fruitless storms.
The day is wrecked beyond discovery
this is a different beach, a wrong cove.
The sunken soldier removed himself
unmoved, untouched and scared
to the chilly crossbones
of his stripped off insignia —
he cannot believe his misfortune.
AI assisted
3. Interlude
The life as a whole
misquoted
a hole in the wall
a hole in the water
the vessel of dreams
verbotten
4. Scherzo in modo di Mahler
Let's go to Lorne
where we were born
let's dance and dance
to the tune forlorn.
Let's play and make
castles on the sand
to the frantic tune
of a gipsy band.
Do you remember the violin
played by an angel with the big moustache?
We'll weep and laugh
make love on the floor
the funeral march
will be heard no more.
Will you remember the violin?
AI assisted
5. Finale: rondo - allegro ma non troppo
The pots in the sand
bulbs and tubers of previous lives
vessels of ancient civilisations
which broke to pieces
or became lipless mummies
sucking on their own endless tails.
The pots discovered in the dark
their round wholeness regrown
considered to be of use
like pears and breasts
no more, no less
cleansed with the holy water from Lethe
and returned to the sea of dreams
LITMUS MOTHER
I was looking for my Litmus Mother
lost in the wild tundra where only
reindeers roamed, hungry and mean.
I didn’t have a way of knowing
if any of them might be good by chance
and could give me milk and offer
the warmth of their fluffy fur
when the freezing wind would come
turning my tears into icicles
which could drift through the veins
to pierce into my heart.
My Litmus Mother would know for sure
which way the blizzard was blowing
so we could escape. She could tell
which colour love would have, which hate.
But left to chance and to the beasts
not recognising that, my blood could turn
into a cyanic sludge and I could never get
the red warm hope back in my heart.
My Litmus Mother would taste for me
the remaining morsel of the dried meat
would try the berries partly frozen
and lick the moss covering rocks
to make sure that a poison lurking there
would not get me
and I would not die of hunger.
And here she was, my Litmus Mother
just playing hide and seek
behind the trunk of a frozen fir
which lost her baby cones when winter hit.
My mother lost me, too, but now
her consolation was
that I who lost his mother and was lost to her
was found without even trying.
And it was revealed to me that she
have always been there
and will forever be.
AI assisted
TO THE DEAD FRIEND
I have been pleasantly surprised
that you keep coming in my dreams.
It's been so long and so far away,
and then you turn up announced
with your shy smile.
Remember the lovely times we had —
the lakes, the country cheese with honey
the four of us going swimming
naked, trying not to look …
And so much to talk about
when we played canasta
on warm summer nights.
Maybe the life has hardened me
and you have not developed a thick skin
your heart unprotected and tired gave way
who knows what happened
when you were dying alone
and unassuming.
You are welcome when you come along
not often though and never on time
you have not changed, I think
and I like that.
Perhaps you are trying
to catch up with me
as I will with you
one day
BRINGING IN A CLOUD OF SADNESS
To be read to the music of one of the last nocturnes of Chopin - in E minor - click here:
The first cord
ushers in
a dark cloud
so unspeakably soft and sad
which can take me where
your heart
waits
for
me
only
that
path
interweaves
with the one to my heart
which is there just for you to walk on
to the clearing
in the green forest
of memories of childhood
go further
come here
stop crying
I’m near
Come dear come, come to me
Please come close to me
here
at
last …
This must be the place
where we and our dreams together
began
and where they
continue
and where they will be gone
Alas …..
But right now
let us sleep here
on the green grass of home
where the sun
will be watching us
with love
rising and smiling just to us
from behind al these sad clouds
It’s telling us it will be like this ...
now and forever
whatever happens to us ...
AI assisted