Distorted Reflections

Distorted ReflectionsA Collection of JuveniliaJeffrey SideWith artwork by Daniela VoicuArgotist Ebooks2

Cover image by Rachel LisiCopyright © Jeffrey Side 2013All rights reservedArgotist Ebooks3

Distorted Reflections4

GoldenrodI watched you gather goldenrod in the fields.I watched you swimming in the forest.And I watched you keeping your handsupon your knees.You breathe like a scientist. And your breathbecomes the count of dreams. You smellas sweet as the second-hand books youthrow away.And the caverns in the earth are not singing.And I cannot walk around the laboratory.And I cannot rest my fingers.And I cannot stay in when the sun is out.I used to think you were a gift to theexperimenters. I used to think you were a giftto the men fighting for their home.Or the men who cry on the heaths and moors.Or the men who fall in the underground.Or the men who wait for us when the clock stops.I watched you gather goldenrod in the fields.The sun was escaping from your hairand your feet were deep in the wet grass.And your arms were filled with goldenrod.5

She Left Without DelayI mark the time when I fly high.I'll be landing very soon.I cannot relocate my genes.I cannot fix the balloon.When suspicion is in your heartthe innocent are hurt too.My ambitions are paved withthoughts of a nature aimed at you.I'll take you off that man one day.I'll take you at your word.I'll take you very far awayto somewhere you preferred.I need you in this room dead soon.I need you in the air.I need you on the moon in June.I need you everywhere.I knew someone who looked like you.She haunts me to this day.She was a screamer too.She left without delay.6

JulietWearing the Earthlike a robe,I flew across the worldtoday.I could seethe buried memorieshiddenin the trees,and I could findno oneto hurtthe two of us outside ofyou and me.I knew you whenyou were nothing.And thenI knew you when you weresomething.And then I met youas you werepassedfrom friend to friend.Each one leaving youaloneto weep in thedesert.You had that lookin your eyesthat said tonight wasthe day.And I wish you had known mewhen the sun was bright.7

Greenheys RoadThe vessels of love crowd in.Their traumas hiddenamong the reeds.No love is lost or given to themas they clutter the mindsof thieves.Strong, sober and drunkI come to you.My weakness revealedin my glee.And book-like I pray onyour needto comfort -- sometimes.Now there is light.And now there is dark.And that is the way that youcan paythe charity you giveto men like me.9

B BlockYou keep yourservices for them.You keepthe church they know.And they makedonations regularlywithone hand on your head.They lean youdown towardsthe cup.You sip the overflow.You lick your lipsand move your fingersfar apart.You have no towninside younow.You have notravellers there.Did you send themhome again?Or did they leave forbetter fare?I was the one wholanded uponyourlessened wing.You had meand then you hadyour king.I came to you abroken ring. I dancedinside10

your mouth.I gave you all mymoneybefore you let mein.I couldn’t be asaviour now. I couldn’tbe a queen.I keep looking aroundfor thingsI haven’t seen.I seldom wandered inyour night.I seldom tookthe fall.Now deep insideI knowthere’s noone else to call.11

Voices in the LightSometimes voicesin the lightwill call me back tothem.Back out of thisplace whereI have spokenfrom.And then I will turnmyback on you,and onthe storm-bled sea.And evenon the sleeping facesthat willneverwake for me.I will find myselfexpandedout of limitationsplight.And noearthly causeor battlewill keepme in this fight.And what willseem likenothingness tothosethat have remained,to me will seem likechildhoodwhen in13

the time of May.14

She Was as Tall as the EiffelOn the journey back,riding on a lonely trackbeat-up.My memories of youare packed deep insidea sack.I never knew your mouthor your soil. I neverknew your fingering.Begginglonely men you beggedme, and I gave yousomething then.I can't rememberwhich or whator when.Or if it wassomething I once sent.But is it time?You left themabruptly.And is it true aboutthe merchant?15

Can’t Talk Anymore in the Old WayOn the days I'd go to visit.I knewshe would be free.In the mornings she'd dothe Sun Salute,and inthe eveningsmake peppermint tea.I first caught sight ofher in the designer sea,when she was captive in herswim suitand the water beckoned me.On crowded nights she'dcalm me downwith all I expected and withoutany sound.And on dayslike this, when the coast is clear,I'd travelup to see her there.Then back atdawn to my place, here,by morning I would repair.On days like this I'd visit her,when her lover waselsewhere.And into the darkness I would slip,until she ceasedto care.17

When You Were Tempered with DelightWhen you were temperedwith delightyour virtues were takendown and foreststhat you passed throughwere not finite.When you weretempered with delightyou kept thesaddest oceans,you keptthe proudest streams.And wild penswouldnot strain your sight.When you were temperedwith delightyou carried sandupon your necklace andcream upon yourlips. And younever made the journeythrough the park.When you weretempered with delightyou wereconsumed by bikers in thelight andnurses in the dark.And taut stringspulledon you forever.When you were temperedby delightstrong bars wereheld around yourfortressand strong men18

could never kiss thewound youwould always hide.19

The Seeds Within MeThe seeds within meformed my shapeand sorrowslong before I knew them.Like some inevitablepunishment I'mblind tothey cause predictionsto be trueand disasters to bejust right.They stopped meclimbing in the fieldsand falling on theslopes thatframed the lake.They made me like afallen tree whoserings can be countedand whose memorycan be read.20

Books That Soothe the DyingThe humming soundslike theprimrose singing.New across your gazewhole pillars torment youbetween journeys.Everywhere longingsthat occurred graduallyfinally overflow you.And intently felt ironyis like breadto the sentence ofimagination.Also, sitting appearsdoubtfuleven while the wakefulmangoes straight inthe parlour.22

Sketches of the Small TownOver provided to thesmall point. Stop or water.The highest touches are by thesnowdrifts.But towards the watersall sides are to the sea.Moist flight south,and valleys, morefinally,become lovelier.World looking,listening.Gone, distant happiness.23

When the Air Was StillWe were together and she fell.Her name I could never spell.When morning came the trees then shadeda sunlit spot in forest gladed.I came upon a table polished.God is love but who is nourished?A single anchor hanging down.A ritual without a sound.The rivers of youth and deathare now awake where they once crept.I tamed a serpent in my handand buried a woman in the sand.Prester John has come again,although he never left us then.Animals now cough at night.And clarity seems recondite.The clouds made shadows on her chestas she prepared for final rest.I was born to forget my death.I was born to count my breath.A paper bag lived in the breezewhile my love died of a new disease.I mourned her when the air was still,and lay on her grave in the morning chill.24

What Do the French Quote?She loved to sit and listento me sing as she held meagainst her rings whilethe worm destroyed her.The caves to the east canbe followed by the sun.And she travelled thereamong the strangersfrom the sea.Like the bubble-islands inmy bath she never stayed thesame. And when shewoke she saw no one.She kept me warm with company.And we wouldwhisper for hours about thebooks she’d bought.Then I would watch herautomatic hand land and turnthe pages of some thin volumeasking what theFrench would quote.She asked about the river,and whether ’twas truethat glass never smashed there.I said it was so when I left.26

Foolishness on a Windy NightI would find a room and sitlooking at the back of my eyelidsfor many hours.But no blindness could be found there.No corners could be turned.And no chairs heard.We went fleeing in the forestbetween the trees that were deadand the counted skeletonsthat had turned red.There was no one about to tellus to go so we stayedand smelt the smoke of wood-fire shadeand pre-Raphaelite heat.The shade then began to get lightand I acted like a foolish man.We married on a windy night when thecathedral sign was still on.27

On Hot Summer NightsI declared my love to herand she turned herself away.But I will surely offer itagain to her someday.She lived on her ownnear to where I was born.And though I never told herto her I was sworn.On hot summer nightswhen trapped in my flatI’d wander out to see herwherever it was that she sat.But she was with anotherwho went there for to hide.And many distances he had travelledto lay his baggage at her side.28

If I Hide the Stars at NightO Joy, you’re really not this mad.You’ve tasted everything I’ve ever had.I would wander in your nightif you’d give me back my rightto make you see that you just play gameswith yourself while you wait to claim the dust.And you speak as thoughyou’ve got every detail sussed.And reading all the books you sent to me,I could never be this free.If I’m gone were would your mind be?O Joy, you know that you are wrong.I don’t have to be the one that’s gone.If I hide the stars at nightwill you give up on your fight?And we’ll pretend that we share this roof,these walls, this table and that chair.I could be someone else for youif you really must compare.And I’d see the old cathedral fly.And the mountains passing by.And your nose turned up towards the sky.29

Livingston DriveOh my dearest darlingI have done you no wrong.Like that time in the morningI fell in love with you.Your father was a good man.He loved me like a son.And now you are absent evermore.What have you done to mewith your words that are now gone?I loved you like a saviourin this world you can’t forsake.My lover of the starry eyes,I loved you long ago.And now you are absent evermore.I only came upon your armswhen I called that afternoon.And I saw a woman in the forestwho was calling out to you.Her picture was like the oneyou showed me hidden in your room.And now you are absent evermore.30

Jeffrey SideJeffrey Side has had poetry published widely in both print and online; and has reviewedpoetry for Jacket, Eyewear, The Colorado Review, New Hope International, Stride, Acumen andShearsman.From 1996 to 2000 he was the deputy editor of The Argotist magazine, and is currently theeditor of the online successor of this, The Argotist Online, which has an ebook publishing armcalled Argotist Ebooks.His book publications include, Carrier of the Seed, Slimvol, Cyclones in High NorthernLatitudes (with Jake Berry) and Outside Voices: An Email Correspondence (with Jake Berry).Daniela VoicuDaniela Voicu is a Romanian poet, novelist and painter. Her poems have been published inCuget Liber, Agero Stuttgart, New York Magazine, Maintenant 7, Poetic Diversity, Pirene’sFountain, Curentul International, Revista Luceafarul, Pagini Romanest in Noua Zeelanda andPheonix Mission. In various anthologies, including Tears of Ink, The Poetry of War and Peace,Words on the Winds of Change, Just a Dream and Reflections on a Blue Planet. And her poetrycollections include, Poems of Angels (2006), Blue in Vitro (2012), Surfing Silence (2012),Windows without Dreams (ebook 2012) and Sky Hands (2012).In 2009, she founded the international journal of culture and literature, Cuib Nest Nido; andin 2011 she founded the international poetry festival of music and contemporary art, The Artto Be Human.31