PoaBL – SEVENTEEN

The poet helps an elderly friend

Sorting his life’s collections

Placing articles into files

According to genre and themes

During an early evening.

At night: The bard sleeps with

A standby alertness

In case of a possible attack on

His friend’s nervous system.

But for now all’s going reasonably

Well. Alas!

At night the poet wears his

Creative hat

He takes his light-blue unlined

Moleskine-journal he bought

At a sale

Adding another poem to the

Cycle: ‘ZJG Pursuit of a Better

Life’.

He had traveled along the

Labyrinth

Set-out for him by the Gods.

By now he has reflected nightly

When it’s dead still on the

Seventh floor of his temporary

Stay.

A bed set-up by his friend’s wife

For comfort

With some entertainment

With a myriad of TV stations

On a wide screen

Where he mostly selects the

Culturally well set-up channel

Of ‘arte’

Until he senses it’s time to

Tuck-in and bade good-by

To his Muse.

ARTE.ETRA

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.

PoaBL – SIXTEEN

He came across some

Postcards

Unravelling piles of papers

With annotations

But mostly correspondence

Of family members

Of his elderly friend.

A portrait

A face drawn with stark

Shadows

An interesting expressive

Depiction of a self-portrait:

Leo Maillet’s “Moi”

An etching dated 1945.

His eyes with a penetrating

Look

Right thru’ the viewer

His lips curled in an angry

Mood.

Another card showing

“Red in Anger”

A watercolour with faces

In tense expressions

Some white overlay blotches

Set against a dark moss-green

Background.

An inspiring work

Yet the poet’s spouse thinks

Nothing of the work

But then he is not at all

Concerned about other opinions

Being inspired by Millet’s work

Taking home some detail

Or other to transform it

In his own work at random

Whenever the mood or an

Opportunity arises.

POSTCARDS.SDRACTSOP

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.

PoaBL – FIFTEEN

There’s a fresh breeze

The skies are clouded up

A hot shower’s great

Doc 1 TV features the

Kennedys

The desk in the living room

The poet’s temporary place.

Peter calls Jordania

The host sorts piles of

Correspondence

The poet assists reading

Some of them

If he’ requested.

Between bottles of sugar-free

‘Almdudler’- lemonade and

San Lucar-grapes

Letters were sorted

From a life enriched with

Commendations

Catalogues from art exhibitions

With forewords by personalities.

‘Art against oblivion’.

The poet eager attending also

To his editing work:

‘The King of Ice’.

Time for breakfast.

Cereals

Fruit and yoghurt with a shot of

Chia seeds

To pep up life at ongoing age

Where anybody still seeks

To age gracefully

But not everybody is so lucky

To experience it.

Call to the fore the artist’s thoughts

Jumping about like mountain goats

Chasing she-goats in heat.

Besides: Many people talk about art

And poetry

As exhibitions touch even the

Least educated person –

The best vehicle for instant

Communication.

INSTANT.TNATSNI

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.

SWEET A

Next to a window with

Slotted blinds

Close to a yard with split for

A surface

Plantain growth for a shrub

During summer not a soul

Will be around.

The artist remembers his

Muse who steered his mind

For poetry

Born from rich Greek tradition.

Sunrays boil his body to

Overheat

But since days on end even

Daily morning’s stirrings

Fade out on his sensations

Just like his life

Has slowed down a lot

The sand of time he held onto

Fast and furiously

Has run in continuity thru’ his

Tightly clenched fist.

‘I guess it’s time’ she talks to him

‘See that you’ll finish what you’ve

Started and get it past the

Finishing line!’

“Indeed sweet A

Poetess of your own right

I will try my best.

I miss your triad love

Your compassionate physical

Warmth. Indeed!”

Love will never die.

LOVE.EVOL

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.

PoaBL – FOURTEEN

The poet’s spouse

Thinned down elfin-like

Thru’ a hard hitting life’s

Exhausting experiences

With Goods-grabbers

Affecting body and soul.

With her sympathetic nervous

System wearing thin

He meets her day by day

In Vienna’s lively city centre

Sharing coffee and meals

Site seeing and talks

About music art and biographies

Of artists.

The poet is a good listener

And his spouse needs the

Stimulation of a world city

And the flight from a boring

Provincial life

Its terrifying monotony and

The desert of communicative

People.

Well done.

As long as her spouse remains

An honorary helper

To his aged friend

They’ll have an interesting

And stimulating meeting

In the capital’s centre.

‘unbelievable’ she said

‘Here in the city we do not

Fight’.

‘No’ he says.

‘We both need our defined

Spaces

To live out our individualities

OK.

Give it another year’

He said.

‘And I’ll see if we could live

In the city’.

‘Really?’ She replied.

‘Let’s cross the bridge when

We’ll get there!’

‘OK’.

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.

PoaBL – THIRTEEN

He walks on air.

His mind bounces with his

Soul among the cumulus clouds

In the humid heat of Vienna.

Tourist mad.

Hoher Markt – Famous clock with

Famous historical figures

Passing below decorative dials.

Judengasse.

Jerusalem Stiege.

He pauses thinking about the

Important city he’d visited.

Rabensteig.

Bermuda Dreieck.

Rotenturmstrasse.

His mind and soul join his floating

Body anew.

The moment he recognizes

His spouse

Sitting close to the window:

Castellotti.

Ice cream.

Giovanni the gregarious waiter.

B will tell him about her experience

When travelling back and fro

Between Weidling in NÖ. And

Schwedenplatz in Vienna.

She asks him if he is OK.

‘Well’

He chuckles

‘Today I’m feeling like Chagall’s

Couple

Dancing over the roofs of Paris.

But then his realities had changed:

A mix of an artist’s realities are

Always present

Like the layers of paint

On his canvas.

AIR.RIA

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.

PoaBL – TWELVE

The poet had interrupted

Sleep

He’s not used to sleep in

A strange bed

One though

That’s well furnished and

Keeps him pleasantly

Embraced

Between soft covers

Inducing light sleep

Let the imagination fly

Off the handle in midst

Of the night

Hooked onto a honeyed

Dream.

Yet he has been stirred

By the characters in his

Poetic legend he is editing

Whenever time allows

Helping his friend. Mr T

As he is known to his

Four assistants and helpers

Who’ll assist by day

And the poet all night.

It’s somewhat a different life

At present

And time spent to think about

A publisher

A poet friend of his friend

Had mentioned.

Sounds terrific?

He’ll prepare his manuscript and

Pass it on to BoD for publishing

‘King of Ice’ will be a good ballad

To start the ball rolling

As the poet had transcribed it

Into German.

Now during twilight hours

The polishing will take place

And to finalize it

Before the start of his postoperative

Cure for his knee.

zoltanzelan.   ZJG-POetry’19.

PoaBL – ELEVEN

It’s all about survival.

The poet in pursuit of a Better Life

The artist not entirely for his canvas

But also to master his life.

Chilling at the Castelletto-Café

In midst of a rich tourist culture

Vienna is loved by all

But most Viennese are weary of

Their politicians

Who supposedly should represent

The majority’s wishes

In parliament.

Besides chilling at the Café

Even the most redeemed papers

Free to read there

Could turn any optimist depressive:

Bugs affecting the death of pines

Rising caprioles of climatic changes

The suffering of the elderly

In a city’s excessive heat

Storing in the granite surfaces

Radiating still into the late night

Questions arising from

Illegal immigration

Wheeling and dealing with

Human lives.

There’s always fear about enough

Drinking water

Besides the well-to-do-people

Flee the city taken over by

Eco-tourism.

Areas reserved for convenient

Shopping

Will be closed and bulldozers

Move in

To revamp Rotenturmstrasse.

Pity it has to be done during

The main tourist season.

SEASON.NOSAES

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.

PoaBL – TEN

The poet travels to town

On a 401 bus

Now and then looking up

Noticing shop signs as

Markers for the route

In his conscious doused by

Humidity

That drowns his alertness.

Leopoldsberg ahead

A wondrous time

Swathed in the stupor of

Repetitive traveling

The same trodden route.

Downtown’s towers

On the horizon

Clouds are arranged

As for a movie set

July.

Traffic’s lame grid

Scent of poisoned incense

Nußdorf.

One Night in Beijing offers

Buffet meals.

Shop signs fly past in more

Grouped densities

Women showing off

Huge derrieres

Shopping bags.

Karl-Marx-Hof complex

Stretches along the entire

Last stop.

REPEAT.TAEPER

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.

PoaBL – NINE

A quick start on Monday

Morning

Ahead of bus schedules

And feeling sorry for his

Knee

The poet murmured

He calls abstract prayer.

‘I will be off on foot’

He said

‘And walk from the bank

To the Physio place

For exercises’.

At the bank the poet noticed

That he’d forgotten his

Reading glasses.

A friendly woman lend him

Her glasses

But they were too weak

To read the code nestling

Between a thicket of drawn

Lines

As an idea to avoid easy

Recognition by others.

Damned!

However

The poet continued his

Shopping at a nearby market

Close to a light industrial area

Amidst fine dust from cement

Productions.

Well. If it’s also excessive diesel

Exhausts or acid rain bursts

Chemtrails from airplanes or

Glyphosate sprayed on fields

It’ll be some micro plastic

In foodstuff.

Forget all that. The poet sighed.

He’d met a woman with dusky

Overall appearance

With brown eyes that glow and

Warm his heart.

Strong good chemistry flows

Through her finger tips

When he receives a medically

Suggested massage on his leg.

Thus her sensual touches

Have affected his whole being.

In time he was attracted to the

Far- eastern beauty.

Will sympathy turn to love?

DUSKY.YKSUD

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.