EUGENIA MACER-STORY Poems Odessa Cafe When sun’s light shuts off computer window Or lightning folds the house in soft electric Fog of thin light, plans of the past Do not necessarily go “auto-future”. I’d thought to glimpse back to meet you But in the remodeled café, no time window Permits. Must be papered up more than formica deep. New menu glossy with pre-printed choices I choose “today’s special” lettered on index card Scope young couple next booth arguing over “Dutch Treat” Recall you ordered trout in a clean sport shirt Today I ordered salmon. This was where you said; “I saw you sitting over there in a different coat.” Pointing to nowhere, an empty table & I knew you were mad or really time-tripping Today here in a different coat, I sit Looking for the time window but maybe It’s a one way view. Luckily I don’t see into the dingy past here They have removed the empty spaces & framed certificates and menus hang On the fourth wall of the glass-sided vestibule But just as I feel I may have bent time trip Into some fake magic peek-a-boo window A stranger in a clean sports shirt Ordering in the booth behind me Tells the waiter I have propositioned him But he has no time for that stuff today Because he lives in Brooklyn and it is raining. Bastille Day 2012 Invisible fireworks over the roof Dull celebratory explosions Above my sleep or over on side street Elusive airbursts: perhaps gunfire As when I heard the “rat tat” in a coffee shop Touring up Greek mountains toward Delphi & jumped up from the table, sighting the yard Perhaps with the reflexes of a ghost picnicking With tourists now & into the future: causeways & the credit collapsed amid gunfire Outside the ancient treasury house & with shouts Rooted somehow within the fiery small suns Extra above dark mountain stone “Fitna”: 9/11 X 2” No words rise in the silent heart Quiet crucible of anger Only photos of fire starters & the mad, recorded screams of innocent Raiders beneath fresh, pre-fab black banners Handed out hawalah by Soul Bankers. 1000 years gone, we’ve lost the wick’s thread Forgetting to follow the flame’s advice Amid electrical delusions magnifying loss Into pixilated nothing: melting lens of ice Scraped from the unplugged freezer of a looted café Destroying what we seldom enjoy Too quickly at the burning inner moment: Raiders beneath fresh, pre-fab black banners Handed out hawalah by Soul Bankers. Some mumble in the underbrush About the secret source of conquest, Holy forgeries within the neck Of the microphone impersonating prophesy As the ancient emergencies die, smoldering dark before the new moon emerges, Crescent/s fragile light, alone in the sky: Antique pendant clean from jeweler’s cleansing acid Hangs sparkling, brilliant as if no soot emerges From beyond the moon’s control becoming new Raiders beneath fresh, pre-fab black banners Handed out hawalah by Soul Bankers. As sorrow rises in the silent heart The real prophesies from the candle flame Lie on the littered streets Invisible beneath cartoon pamphlets Burning only thick smoke upward, A screen against the moon, Against the clear voice of the stars Speaking cold silence above Soul Bankers Urgent tabulation of how many innocents Kindle certain fire from the old wick’s thread Forgetting to follow the flame’s advice. Until fire manikin pulses in the usual bed Reminding that radioactive stone at magnified depth Comes close through air’s watery lens Shining through windows upon the cell phoney’s head A rag doll of no substance flaming as faked ancient signs Becoming “real” as real be “strange” Raiders beneath fresh, pre-fab black banners Handed out hawalah by Soul Bankers. Crates of black flag supplies from the unknown donor Quickly changing into fiery vestments of terror * Fitna (also fitnah or fitnat) is an Arabic word with connotations of secession, upheaval, and chaos. It is widely used in Arabic daily language as an adjective which refers to "causing problems between people" or attempting to create a chaotic situation that tests one's faith. The exact translation of this word is often ambiguous for non-Arabic speakers. The word fitna also has several similarities with the idea of tribulation in Christian belief. Eugenia Macer-Story is a poet-playwright and visual artist whose work has been published and exhibited internationally. Her poetry chapbooks have been part of the Poets House poetry publication showcase for a number of years. She also writes books on the supernatural and IFO experiences and her articles on the supernatural have been published in UFOs and Supernatural magazine and UFO magazine. A detailed CV is available at http://e-macer-story.com and her email is e.macer-story@att.net (originally posted at http://www.acousticlevitation.org/macer.html)