Sunday, June 25, 2017

Kit Kelen #539 - Marrakech - Ramadan

Marrakech – Ramadan

textbook of the tourist's undocumented needs

strange shallow night
from which the birds have sung
none of the prayer calls woke me

first sky's washed out
sway brocaded

it was alley dark we came
furtive, foregoing the wheelbarrow offered
on foot, maze trod

you won't dream a way back
but that's how we came

the sun here's stored in little vials
we have kept for the night
and shelves of figures come to colour

these verses are from a forgotten book
the whole street here recites
because it is yet to be written

the saints will wake
then who should they be?
lit miniatures won't be made out
it is deeds resound

roof of the riad
in the olive's almost reach
walls are the desert
ceiling is moon

this floor as of the earth djinns shook
the whole room – not a right angle in it
but you are travelling here

eyes after
hijab, beards, cleanshaven

perhaps faces from the Souk tomorrow
features lost to centuries
these all luminous objects the desert has left

shelves of figures come to light
miniatures won't be made out

no one came here but the whole night climbing

walls are the desert
ceiling is moon

we cling to our raft
washed up on this sky

seas spoken far off
clouds murmur

the language is not mine to name

what is it the pigeon seeks
where the heat of the day wears on

to hear water falling
to taste the sweetness of tea
to come to a stillness here


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