Poems 2004

The Colors of Piazzolla's Tango Apasionado

Black, White -
the buttons of the bandoneón,
serpent box with lusty voice,
of the Gypsy who came
in from the lonely night,
raising passions for a few coins,
anonymous in a country
without a name.

Black, White -
his eyes independent,
aflame
he listens to the plaintive refrain
of the violin,
a bird calling its mate,
a subdued, expectant wail,
the predator heard its prey.

Black, White -
the woman bored
from passionless love
awaiting her power
skirt slit high
revealing just a little thigh,
colors of mourning
around a snowy grave.

Black, White -
the clarinet of polished wood
sleeping in the night
reflecting the mood
of the single, naked light
casting a foggy glow
in smoky back-street cave
where the refugees from day
await.

Black, White -
a photograph freezing time
a moment of life
unalive,
not even a memory
just shadows and shapes,
faceless figures, heads, shoulders,
bodies in silhouette
alone,
boulders strewn
upon the darkened landscape.

Red -
the glass of wine
the Gypsy drank
the blood of the holy Son
orphaned by tides
of human misery,
of ancient lands,
of family;
all of this he played
as he answered the violin,
"Here is your mate!"

Red -
the response, if strings
and wood could bleed,
life started flowing
in longing melody
at once inviting to come,
and then demanding
to abruptly leave.

Red -
the tongue upon the reed
whetting it for the challenge
of the Gypsy;
clarinet caught off guard
asleep
now raises his sword
from its sheath
shrilly, a call to battle,
a defiant cry,
lover hungry for a fight.

Red -
the quickening pulse
of the bandoneón,
the violin,
and the clarinet,
the coming to life
of shadows, shapes and silhouettes,
the fires
struck by lightening in lonely hearts,
the glow
of hastily lit cigarettes,
the flash
of blood upon the knife.

Red -
the new wine being poured
all around.

Red -
the lips of women
in ambiguous pout.

Red -
the men whose dying
embers come alive.

Red -
the panting intercourse
of bandoneón, violin, and clarinet.

Black, White, Red -
male, female in fiery rite,
women refined, aloof,
men stomping like matadors
in hot pursuit
wanting to shed blood
but stopped by elegance
and dance,
the female flaunting her power,
leg held high in defense
against the male's thrusting thigh,
to then flow together as one -
in detached and heated fusion
to the music of violin, clarinet, bandoneón.

© 2004 Richard Sidy