VII Autumn Verses (Or, Letters of Autumn)



VII AUTUMN VERSES 
(OR, LETTERS OF AUTUMN)
(January 2016)

Ave Maria, Gardel and Bach
When early or late September falls on us
The rain everywhere, seen from the window
Of a moving tram, it's getting to my nerves

Confidence in melancholic 
And beautiful thinking

”It would be so easy to drown in this city”
I'm a loser, beloved, and a wishful man
Too bad, as a heretic and an archist
I never knew them, well, enough (to have)
The flower girls from the street, 
Holding asters for those who write 
”Infernal and inferior poetry”

What happens when you tried too much 
And failed in a poem or a place of hope, 
If the light is good and the staff 
Like a serpent, we're having our talks
”While the raindrops kept on 
Fooling my head.....”

For another man, another one lost in thoughts
(Un)certain of many things, no ghost writing
The old word called honesty, how is it
Ever so difficult to attain and keep



What and where have I written
How I've been afraid of things
That may come, lo, the demon of lust
And afraid of lies, that it's not real
For every other verse printed
All the things I've gone through
Weak and with hope(lessness)
”And there is porn for everyone”
(You who have suffered for us
Have mercy on us, amen)

Save us from these cares

Underground lines in the night
Of soul, what if I'm not a good man
Like them (the Manicheans and the Gnostics)
And you were not [t]here to heal my wounds
The verses of autumn had to come in March

Who ever thought 
There could be no more clichĂ©s
”I would try no more, having failed in all”
Whenever rain appears it's only angels' tears

And you are with me 
And every day is a good day

Pouring coffee to the ground, 
What else could there be
When the night is young, 
The night is young to spell

”With these letters of 
autumn, come again”



And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A thousand kisses deep.

-L.C. (1934-2016)

Nobody-y- knows the trouble I've seen
Or my sorrow, and it's getting emptier
”How my cup will be overflowing.....”
Who never had a bad day in their lives
Who were terribly poor and pain ridden
Between the Devil and death itself
The boots were made of black leather
It's a long way back from the shadow
To what you are, but I forgot it, almost
In the never-emptying confluence

And I would write for a friend of mine
Who had called me, [into SAAL] long ago
After having found me from that park
Who gave me a helping hand, kindly
For I was near the edge of no return
”Autumn dying ends, it has an end
With all the lyrics that came in July”
How we shared a few things to recall
When autumn died again, this part would be
Crossing through, cross over the summer
To thank once more, [for YIW] an other chance

He guides me in right paths as befits 
His name. Though I walk through 
A valley of deepest darkness, 
I fear no harm, for You are with me

-Psalm 23 (translated from the Hebrew 
original text by Jewish Publication Society)


Every day is a good day and you are with me

Every day is a good day, 
But (why) are you with me

And what a relief it is after all
To realize that I don't have to know
”If the letters of autumn come again...”
Still, it's getting to my nerves, baby
For there is night, and there's night
They have almost nothing in common
And the crazy nights were elsewhere
I'm listening to the older music now
From a thousand Marys to Mathilda
Lord, I (don't) try, oh (not) to try again
”And there is porn for all of us”
The copper leaf will remind me
Gleaming red, yellow and golden
I’d let all dancing souls of December
Merge with those drops, like circles
They would become one with the rain
”It has been so easy to drown in this city”
The sad or happier tears brought by the wind
Yes, don't worry, they have to be kept
Falling to the piece of their master
To bless the remains of that place
A world in two floors, to cast (no more)
Autumnal verses for a romance in the night
The ground floor, by the window

The verse from SAAL into YIW for M.V. 
Old friend and band mate / OG 2000-2006 
And the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Nine