GUEST POST // The Sea is Watching by Mario Savioni (with commentary by Marta Pombo Sallés)

In some complacent nest,
I saw the open door –
The extraordinary field of innocence.

She weeps having not expected
To be a party to purity.

It is a field of fog at the end of the lake,
Where the weeds swirl.

He says, “I do not need tea.”

Again, the swirling field.

He walks alone along the edge.

Do you know the sound of water lapping?
A sun setting behind reeds?

He hears laughter not meant for him
And words:

“Death waits not on age.”
“The young sometimes die before the old.”

She loves him, this slayer of rice paper.
She races in winter to free him.

They cry on a bridge.
She is shadowed.
Young lovers.

Spring comes.
Spring is the answer.

Or is it summer?

In it, I see the weakness of men,
And a woman’s burden is to trust.

But we are not strong enough
To carry the weight of ourselves
Through this eagerness.
Laughter there is none.
A bloodied mouth, the searing wind,
As if evil came,
Then rain, a purity.

The field weak now,
Showers pouring,
A storm,
Things breaking,

And then suddenly it stops.

Who is the wiser?
So much lucky red silk –
Floating debris.

Two women wait,
While the sea is watching.

It is like Noah,
And so they sit
Looking at stars from a rooftop.

It is about men and their gentleness,
As she waves the lantern in space
And sees the shooting star.

by MARIO SAVIONI
© All rights reserved 2011

A review of Mario Savioni’s poem, “The Sea is Watching”

I was rereading Mario Savioni’s book entitled After and had a closer look at poem “The Sea is Watching”:

I like it very much as a poem having found inspiration in the Japanese movie with the same title.

The whole poem sounds very musical, especially when I read the words from the book and, at the same time, listen to its author, reading it aloud on youtube.

This is how I interpreted the poem at first sight:

The “complacent nest” could be a euphemism for the word brothel. The “field of innocence” is something I associate with Oshin. She is an innocent prostitute because she still believes in love although she is a sex worker. She falls in love twice. She weeps because the promise of marriage with Fusanosuke has not been fulfilled. She is not “a party to purity.”

There seems to be a he, not wanting tea and walking along the edge, either Fusanosuke or maybe it is the second chance she gets when she falls in love again with Ryosuke. The word “edge” suggests risk. Could they be the “young lovers”? There is death, someone younger dying that could refer to Ryosuke killing Kikuno’s customer.

The coming of spring suggests the lovers’ season par excellence. The beginning of love. Summer would mean this love is already ripe, like fruit.

I also see the traditional men-women roles. “The weakness of men” who are supposed to be so strong but they are weak with the pleasures of the flesh as they need prostitutes and sex, often abusing women. Luckily the rain and the storm seem to come as an opportunity for purity, for the prostitutes to clean themselves and to get rid of this life. The “lucky red silk” appears to me as the symbol for the brothel, now a “floating debris”.

The two women sit and wait on the rooftop, a symbol for an anchor where they can hold on to. “The shooting star” means hope, a wish that someone will come and rescue them from the flood, maybe the second he, Oshin’s second opportunity in life, that is, Ryosuke coming by boat.

by MARTA POMBO SALLÉS
© All rights reserved 2016

Six Word Stories #14

Your lips brushed across my threshold.

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

Teti-à-Tête (With Tony) #6

crumble-cult-210

Tati as TATI

crumble-cult-106

Tony as TONY

ACT 5 SCENE 3
THROUGH THE LOOKING HOLE

Set in the lounge room of a cosy three-storey tree house in an unspecified fantasy location.

TATI is sitting in a comfortable armchair. She is reading a book entitled ‘Unicorn Farts: How the Rainbow was Born’ with a serious face.

TONY wanders in, wearing a sandwich board advertising something called Hole-in-the-Wall’. He turns to the reader (that’s you) and bellows…

TONY: You! Hey you! Yeah, reader! This is a hardcore sales pitch!

TATI: What the hell?

TONY: Buy our stuff! Buy it now! Buy it or die! (Well, everyone dies. Eventually.)

TATI: Tony…

TONY: Just goddamn BUY our stuff so we can get filthy stinking rich and avoid paying taxes like the top one percent! Yeah. Just… YEAH.

TATI: Tony.

TONY: Do it, man! And woman. Plural.

TATI: TONY!

TONY: What?!

TATI: This is shit and you know it. It wouldn’t even hook a dead fish.

TONY: Huh?

TATI: Take off that silly hairpiece, please. You’re not Donald Trump.

TONY: I’m only trying to spruik our new shop page.

TATI: Hole-in-the-Wall isn’t a fly-by-night pyramid selling scheme. It should be presented with dignity.

TONY: Fine. I’ll be boring then. Dear reader, Hole-in-the-Wall is our new shop page. You can find it here on Unbolt Me, and it features our first two eBooks. Eventually, we will have other stuff you can buy as well, but for now please do enjoy our literary offerings.

TATI: Amen.

TONY: Oh, and our books will help you to lose weight. Maybe even get rid of dandruff and carpet stains…

TATI: Tony! Are you an idiot? Do you want to be beaten for your shameless lies?

TONY: Frickin’ women. Can never make ’em happy. Not ever.

THE END

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

EARS WIDE OPEN // anastasis tree

Earlier this year, we wrote a poem called anastasis tree. It’s one of our personal favourites and it seems this was also the case for many of you, our dear readers. Oh, and guess what? We were lucky enough to have the inimitable Miljenko Williams do a reading of it for us. We think you’ll agree that he’s done an absolutely wonderful job. Please do sit back, relax, and enjoy! (Also, may we recommend that you cast a curious ear over another of his readings here? It’s one of his own poetic efforts. Seriously, check it out. It’s SO good!)

anastasis tree

thick scabbed bark like a panoply
but tenderer than a wing-stroke
stealthy touches, airy kisses,
cracking, cracking

i’m but a breath, thinly stretched
by potter o’er clay and bone
i’m a tumbleweed in tumbleland
a noose dropped at the hanging tree

gnawing trails through rotten caudex
weaving cocoons inside the heartwood
quivering fibrils, feeble pulse
waiting, waiting

you are closer than the wisp of lips
you are deeper than oceans mere
you are greater than fears all brung
an empty space at the hanging tree

gentle stirring feels like convulsions
nobody asks you when you’re ready
voiceless screams, waterless tears
waking, waking

we all submit that need to know
we know love that seek out truth
we love true another’s name
our troubles left at the hanging tree

you want me for you
i want you for me
so let it be
a butterfly sways
on a hangman’s noose
at the dead tree

Text by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
Audio by MILJENKO WILLIAMS
Image by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2016

Dog Days (Postcard Set #5)

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016