a lesson in tongues

[Ani]

my lover wants me
to teach him languages
so i sit him with me by the trees
and thus begin...
i will teach you poli linguas
all the linguas that you thelis,
thelis like they say in greek
when they want something,
TH as in "Thighs"
these of mine i wrap around
your waist just so;
and E as in "bEd"
this grassy bed we lie in;
L as in "Labials"
the sounds coming through
these lips when i speak to you
in tongues, then kiss
you uuhhmmm and uuhmm;
and I as in "frIction"
what you feel when my hand
crawls your body over
like so and like so and finally
S as in "suSurrous"
when my mouth comes to your ear
and says, "i lohh it whe you shhh like blu
hhhussssshhhpurrreessssaabeeeaamm"
Thelis, tell me che tu thelis
and i give, i say.
but you will have to be silenzioso
when i ablo, i say,
and listen soltanto a me,
that means you have to listen
very attentivement, looking at
my mouth, le mie labbra especially
and when i tell you, love,
répéter after moi,
you will répéter so perfettamente,
deliciosissimo as you are
that i will say bravo,
bravo mon dieu, i would even call you
by such name, i would, you, god of my words.
and then i would speak albanian,
which in albanian is "shqip"
as in "schkeep" and you would say
shqip is the mejor lengua, ma belle,
the most bukur "bookoor"
beautiful, beautiful
and vuala! it will make
your thoughts grow red,
redder, like the russian blood,
krassneei blood and last, il culminacion
de my teaching sará when i tell you
to shut up now, non répéter anymore,
just tell me, in what language
will you now describe my eyes?

[Sokoli]

Ani duhet te jesh tip teper i lezecem.
Keto mendime i ke qare. Shkojne shume sidomos me stinen qe po na rrezon deren perdhe.

[Ani]

thanks sokol. po fus dhe ca te tjera te ky rrjesht qe ishin tek ish-forumi... -Ani


As They Lay Nibbling

She wants to touch the waves and then ta da,
lift the water as if it were a napkin
and cool his sweaty face. You creep,

she says to him, how can you call me icy
when I can dip my finger in the Antarctic waters,
melt the snowy pot and boil you up a salty soup?

Threaten my worlds and grow me nimble,
she told him once. Can he not feel the wet nimble she leaves
on his palm after it’s crossed the netherlands?

Oh, and when he moves his hand around her belly
to stop her hunger some late morning, oh yes he feels,
she feels he feels, it's just that he's so silly,

he's completely taken now with her hair, his full lips
are marking her neck just below and behind the ears,
it's almost as if his tongue slides inside her vein,

pulsing to the same rebelling rhythm. She likes to
tease him with bad words, likes to bite his fingers, not off,
just bite a little like a cat, would you let me, she asks.

His eyes are teary like dew-heavy leaves.
They seem biddable, bid-da-ble, bida bel, bida bull,
beedabull, you be da bull, she tells him,

come on, be da bull now! Hahah, she laughs, he laughs
in her ear, she bites his fingers, he wets her hair with his mouth,
with wet fingers from her mouth. Their mouths co-nibble.

They are incredibly hot in this shot, aren’t they?
You could almost see their breath in fact.
How would you like to buy this photograph

for your Lady, Sir? On Valentine. She'll love it, Sir.
She'll ask you to be da bull for her.
I swear to you, Sir. Bye This Photo Now.




A Cat's Lives

He must have been nine years old
when he dipped a cat in gasoline,
set it on fire and watched it run a round of horror.

The mad cat dance, he called it, come watch
the mad cat dance, he said to his friends
but they ran away from the terrible joy in his eyes

leaving him there alone to watch the cat spin
and hear it cry from its stomach. He buried it afterwards
crying aloud to himself all through the digging.

Later that year, he threw a cat off the tenth floor
just to see if it'd die. He was told cats have nine lives
or nine souls or something like that.

One day we heard his father beat his mother.
He cut her hair so short that she didn't get out
of the house for two whole months.

He burnt the hair in front of her
and when she'd start to cry, he'd yell at her,
"Shut up, shut up you skinny cat, it'll grow back."




Falling

She’s inside this man’s house;
he’s not too old but he’s over thirty
years older than her and he’s cooked

this bluefish dip which smells like sex.

The TV’s on, mute. There’s constant replay
of a tower smoldering, politics, an airplane entering
another tower straight on, brave, courageous…

kind of like everything you lack when you’re driving
on a highway and you’re curious for a moment,

what if I just drove off the shoulder?
But, you never do.

There are different wines on the table.

Would you like some red wine, he asks and she
says, sure, I'll have some, thanks.

The dip you’ve made is yummy.
Why thank you, he says,

I caught the fish myself in Cape Cod

and she has this sudden helpless feeling--
she’s turning into bait between his teeth.

O, they’re showing those people falling again…
Let’s drink to them, he says,

they’re all here with us anyway.

Then he takes her out in his garden
and tells her, you have a beautiful jacket on,
touching her sleeve to feel the texture.

Oh, look at the sun setting,
its gorgeous gold on those leaves, it’s beautiful,
he sighs.

Gold fire--gold red fire. The only thing closer
is an explosion, she adds,

can you imagine being part of its setting?

Here, try this, he says, plucking a pear
from the pear tree, then later,
as they keep walking, gives her two cherry

tomatoes that spurt inside her mouth;

she wishes he’d watch her eat them
but he has to walk on, has to show the other
guests around.

There are other guests in his house,
intelligentsia, but to her they’re smoke
she must move through to get into this man’s
eyes and tell him,

I want to **** you

in this garden till the sun comes up again
tomorrow and I want to spurt these red tomatoes
on your white beard, on your white hair like

poppies thrown over the snow

and let the world blow itself out of curiosity
or otherwise, I have you

nibbling for my bait deep within me
as we're falling, setting here.

[Ani]

Joey ate ants everyday,
a disorder he developed
when his mother ran off
sometime in his fourth year.

Joey picked up ants with two fingers,
looked at them first,
then looking straight ahead, thoughtlessly
put them into his mouth.

He always chose the black,
quiet, slow-moving ones,
maybe because they were
quiet and slow like him.

One day Joey’s mother returned
and took Joey out to dinner.
They were sitting quietly at the table,
and when she finally said,

“I’ve missed you!”
a black sea of ants began crawling
out of Joey’s mouth drowning
the space between them.

[Ani]

To love him is a matter
of building brick and gold
walls, splashing in hot weather,
walking in cold feet.

It is to build a weir
by day and tear it down
by night, speak in silent voices
from many cages deep.

It is to plant a tree that bends
this way and that and
though the apples never fall
the ground stays apple full.

It is to pick the black
fish from white waters
inside his eyes for a new
purpose under our sun.

It is a matter of telling him
of love and what suffices,
a song I sing to hush
all his surrounding noises.

[Ani]

kto ne fakt jane te gjitha te publikuara ndaj dhe duken si me forme me te rregullt e me te perpunuara se ato qe postoj tek forumi shqip.

tungjats,
Ani

[liliella]

anushe ku jane te publikuara keto. me ka ra mendja me ble dicka qe ka ty si autore. kt sa per kujtim e mbase ndonje dite e shes tek e-bay. te nxjerr dicka ne drite nga kjo miqesi . lol :a :p

[Ani]

i see, this has always been your ulterior motive hasn't it? shoqe me interes! pa, pa, pa!! sikur ta dinja! po sikur ta dinja moj ti! :b dang!! mire, mire se do flasim! NE TELEFON!! hahahah!

love,
Ani

[qyfyri]

As terse as it can be, the precision of your verse made me achieve a climax. I seriously felt the warmth of my own unborn children race up the corridors of my penis and knocking at the door of the unbearable light they stormed out as a pack of lunatics ready to take the next challenge. They died upon first contact with mother nature, god knows what could have been, but the truth is, a climax of this sort was most relieving. I said danke i kenaqur me veterrjedhjen and left for some right-ish sympathizer’s meeting. They’re in fashion now you know lady?

[Ani]

Splatter

When you sit
over my legs
tickling my belly,
you’re a crazy old man
worshiping my Chi
with hands, eyes
and chants in a language
I’ve never heard
but understand.
Then, when you lock
your hands with mine
coming down
to seize my lips,
you’re the cataract of vim;
your lips splashing
on my peripherals
overtaking all my portals
no longer traveling
the outskirts,
you're in.



Love On Its Tiptoes

My lover is a Paganini.
His pizzicato plucking
of love’s ripest fruit
sets my heartbeat off the charts
and we feast and we
kiss and kiss.
Mi brucci, mi geli,
sei la mia malatia
la mia sanita.
T’amo dolce, t’adoro
he swears,
se credi che io brillo
é perche tu mi dai splendore,
I’ll build a castle just for you–
walls of stars in the rain,
lie with me, lie with me,
let me bathe you
bella-scintillante.
And he plucks,
and he plucks my thoughts
from under my tongue
and if it’s true the Devil
granted him mastery
over my heart’s beating,
I’ll kiss the Devil too.



War’s Soliloquy

I have no marrow in my bones. I have dirt instead.
Chop them open, see for yourself.
Don’t be scared when, breathing over them,
you make each grain rise and fall,
fall and roll like earth’s tectonic plates.
Go tell river, mountain, call God too.
This is unheard of, some mistake for sure,
who ever slouched among the living like this?

See if they will tell you of the matters here.
I sing, I rise from the ways you fall in me.
People--such cherry blossoms, that live but three days--
I’ll hold you in my shell, sing lullabies,
tell you fairytales of flares
while you make your living feasting on ash air.