Age of Jahiliyah

A blog of wide and varied interest, including Islam, Muslims, Poetry, Art and much more.

From the Last Four Things by Kate Greenstreet

She was trying not

to use beautiful.

 

“People”

and “life” were problems too.

 

“Death,”

too. She was vague

 

about how she would live.

We did some dyeing on my birthday

 

and took apart some slacks

and skirts from Goodwill, for the wool.

 

We had the four ages of man, the oceans…

There was a likelihood of

 

hidden problems.

I wanted words, the look,

but everything they meant

seemed wrong.

 

It had been hard to get the numbers

of deaths. Perhaps you pass under a branch…

 

Often is a change

of direction…

 

We were on a mountain road.

There is above all this actual place…

 

Rain was falling and we went off the road.

We were falling but we didn’t hit.

 

This place has a glimpse…

And it seemed that we were held somehow.

 

Very beautiful showed the lie.

 

We began with blue. It had seemed

some kind of sky blue.

 

Dream a friend, made

of the same stuff as the dark.

 

No one saw anybody writing something down in all that time.

Later, she could read and she could walk.

We don’t know what it means but we do know that the person disappears.

 

The bridge

attracts us with its brightness.

This map depicts the location.

 

The signal they get

is to build.

He offers the female items from his collection of blue objects.

 

His little girl sat down on my lap, said: Are you our mommy now?

 

“Consciousness does not affect the body, but exists in a powerless,

neutral state.”

Things that aren’t possible come to pass.

 

“You speak of rocks–or a glimpse of blue lake…”

You have either passed through the shoals or you are entering the shoals.

(They ask for predictions.)

 

Days go by

in the French style, haiku

“postcard” style.

 

We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed.

 

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