I hope you will be interested to read the following poems written as homage to the old tango lyricists and inspired by the sharp and melancholy beauty of the truths they tried to pin down ...and, now and again maybe some other things (should you care to check back from time to time) - Lenny
16.02.09
In this tango the narrator seeks solace in converting his unfulfilled desire into a fictitious memory
The Life We Never Lived
I mourn the life we never lived
The path we never trod
The door we never opened
I grieve for the words we never spoke
The candles we never extinguished
The bed we never shared
I grieve for the clock we never heard tick off
The minutes and seconds left
Before our enforced parting
And for the melodious birdsong
Flooding in to take your place
On each of those precious mornings
Lenny
10.02.09
I Do Not Blame You
I do not blame you for not coming back
You went away and that was your choice
In this world there is much that conspires
To keep us from following our hearts
We so easily let go of one another
For this reason or for that reason
For one reason or another
I do not blame you for not coming back
Why scavenge the mire for excuses
Things get in the way and that’s all there is to it
But though I think I know the truth of it
Letting you go is hard for me to accept
Lenny
09.01.09
All I Know Is
Where were you when I needed you
On those cold nights full of longing
I don't care where you were:
All I know is that now our love is lost forever
They say that time is a great healer:
All I know is that it was time
That took away my dreams
And crushed them into shadows
Lenny
17.02.09
This is more a story than a poem, more a sonnet than a story, more a tango than a sonnet…and it’s true.
On a side street off the Calle Corrientes
I met a woman with a burnt chair
She had hung it on the wall for all to see
Next to it on rusted wire hangers
She’d hung two threadbare dresses
Each one trimmed
With derelict black fur and peacocks' feathers
The rough wall snagged at the silk
And little feathery tufts torn off by the wind
Ebbed and eddied around the woman’s cheeks
Her lashes
And her sad lips
Fixed hard like coral
I am sure her heart was broken
Like the heel of the one shoe she still wore
Lenny
This brings to mind an excerpt from my diary which it seems appropriate to insert here. It's not a poem or a lyric - but, there you go!
BUENOS ARIES – late autumn, 2006
It is a pain to see the beggars. They are not as much in evidence here in Buenos Aires as in some other parts of South America but they are nevertheless very present, and it is a continuing sadness. It is a feature so ubiquitous, you'd think you'd get used to it, but I don't see how you can. It's pitiful and maddening to see.
Last night at about midnight, a little boy of about eight or nine came into the cafe where we were having a nightcap. He was alone. He walked up to the bar and just stood there, eyes downcast. What could the bar-tender do? He wiped his hands on his apron, took out a bread roll from under the counter and shoved it gently into the child's little mitt before leading him back to the door and out again into the bitter night. It was sickening to witness.
And, this morning I saw a young woman lying on the grass inside one of those chained-off green areas that you find down the middle of the great Avenue Corrientes, said to be the widest boulevard in the world. She was buried under a pile of bulky overcoats, a lighted cigarette-stub dangling from her fingers. Her chest was heaving and she was wheezing badly. Near her, playing inside the boundary of the iron railings, two scruffy little toddlers were amusing themselves with sticks and stones. The youngsters clearly belonged to the young woman.
Suddenly, a guy of about thirty hopped over the railings, hurriedly broke into three a hunk of some kind of cake that he was clutching, pushed a hunk apiece into the little fists of each of the children and then dashed over to the young woman to whom he gave the remaining piece. He then took two or three long pulls on her cigarette stub, turned and speedily made off once more for the fence.
When he reached it, he leapt over and, retrieving three juggling balls that he had obviously deposited in the bushes earlier, sprinted up to the huge adjacent intersection where he joined a second man – and, all this just in time to catch the five (!) lanes of traffic as they ground to a halt for the red lights. When the traffic was stationary, he and his companion ran out onto the zebra crossing, performed a quick and not unspectacular display of juggling, did a lightning run around the nearest stationary cars for a spot of begging, and then made a sharp exit off the highway, before the revving traffic roared once again into unconcerned motion.
19.02.09
Close Embrace
It is not helping,
This being near to you;
You are too close-by,
And the hurt is still keen
I tried putting distance between us,
But that didn’t work;
The further apart we were,
The deeper bit the longing
Drunk on this sweet agony,
What can I do?
Near or far,
Where should I go?
Lenny
Emigrado
Come to me now
I will compose you of tiny flowers
Come to me now
Like the sparkling homing dove
Come to me now
With that smile that melts my heart
Come to me now
You whom I left behind
I am open to your coming
Come to me now
I will cherish and protect you
Come to me now
Come to me now
Find your home in my arms
Let me love you forever
Let me love you
Let me love you
Lenny