Poem: this wayward energy

Norbert Schwontkowski 2005

You are a beauty, you are a beast,

You write as if playing the piano-

Confident and slick, when jumping when sick

I sprout words I sing it back-

Dance with me God, let me breath-

Dance with me spirit for I need to see- clearer than a blue sky- clearer than any night

They don’t understand me, nor this nor the sun on my face nor the heat on my hands-

What do I give the earth, back for me

It will swallow me too soon.

This poem was given to me- by a strange feeling, a reeling explainable like a dream

A fairy party.

I could scream but here comes the kinetic energy

I push and pounce and sin quietly…

Give me my men, give me the bends

I could do you, eat you and fly back into the air.

Each one of us makes twice of you

They gave me this because I hit myself

They listen to me for I don’t listen to myself.

When the words come, I am their student.

I bend my back backward and hope for the best.

Oh Sun God, Oh Ra, oh the stinkbug on the ground oh Allah.

I am a source, a genius a sick child, a mad woman a star.

When I don’t recognise myself, I am become one with the tables and chairs and beds.

Oh Jesus, oh my boss, what am I in mercy of, who do I appease?

Who do I beg for forgiveness, who to I treat-

Who do I believe what will make me sink?

If I have this, then you have that and we will both be free.

Drying, I love the leaves in the sun, forming dirt for the winter,

Wringing out for the summer

Here I am

Here I am

Here I am.