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LUCI COLLIN

PALETTE


that's me
smiling picture in the paper
dust on the books never read
gazing at blurry figurations
trying to forget threats
laughing at worn out nevers
chanting sometimes
emptiness of silent day-breakings
burning inside
pagan permissiveness
eyes of sequestered sites
digging dismantled senses
dull throbbing once madly forged cries
craving for better-shaped sentences
not shades
nor wantings

but light

(A Time t be Free, Harlingen: Quill, p. 125, 1999)




FIGURES

 greasy voices
         moaning about
  a bunch of regrettable byes

  inventory of recollections
assaulting on the poet's eyes
             one private
             two painful
             three negligible

the empty canvas is impregnated with
façades            fallacies               fakes
          one sweet-tasting image
          two solvable metaphors
          three always tired hints

thirsty
      the cheapest surrealist poem
        cries out for the invisible
         f    i    n    g    e    r    s
that
         (it) can never
                             touch  

(Shadows and Light, Owings Mills: Watermark, p. 517, 1996.)



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