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germo_sold_out
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Name: Germo
Country: United States
State: Illinois
Metro: Edwardsville Madison County
Birthday: 11/13/1987
Gender: Male
Interests: Trees, books, dinosaurs, kung fu, poetry, bacon, mohawks, and samurai movies
Expertise: Breakfast, lunch, and dinner--also insomnia
Occupation: Unemployed/Between Jobs
Industry: Entertainment
Message: message me
AIM:  germo sold out
Member Since:
4/17/2006
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| Radio Palermo (Corrected)A woman walks across the water
step by treble step
a pretty young thing walking a cello string
with cello curves and alto clef
a far-away friend caught between the sound
of testo no capito
and percussion rain on café glass
coming through in simile
like dawn and day and wine-red night
coming through in coffee cream
empty chairs and exile haunts
time and space and rained-out streets.
A woman moves across a melody
poco a poco,
andante e dolce
coming through in stereo
on radio Palermo
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| Radio PalermoA woman walks across the water
and finds you far away.
You hear her foot falls echo through you
and watch the ripples in your wine
as she comes stepping note by note across the sea
on a trembling cello string,
over space and time and the no capito vocals
coming through in stereo.
On Sicilian radio.
Coming through deserted streets
to knock on the café glass,
she waits to be let in.
Or is it the rain
that bends these lines in red and blue and black
framing radio sounds
into similes:
like dawn's skirts rustling red,
like day slowly opening both blue eyes,
like midnight letting her hair spill out over the empty streets?
Or like memory finds you sitting
and taking your hand in hers
asks you for a dance.
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| Well, Abby (Redux)Well, Abby is a bird
And Abby's flown away
Beyond the thing's we've heard
And out of yesterday
Sunlight sings in sighing
But Abby sang in green
And though daylight was dying
Abby sang to being
You might whitewash a smile
But you can't make it bend
You know goodbye in style
But you don't know the end
A face drawn on the window
Socks left on the stairs
Her scent still on the pillow
One last strand of hair
A song without a chord
Has nothing left to say
She didn't leave a word
But I heard her anyway
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| Die bleibtDer Tag vergeht
Da die Welt vergeht
Doch alles vergeht
Außer der Nacht
Die bleibt
Auch wenn sternlos
Sowie freundlos
Ihre Armen die Leere umarmend
Und Füße ins Vergessen baumelnd
She Remains
The day passes
Because the world passes
As everything passes
Except Night
She remains
Even if starless
And friendless too
Her arms wrapped around emptiness
And feet dangling in oblivion
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| Life we weave like cloth
sunlight fades, a lifetime frays,
and quiet death undoes
Cemetery suits,
choked, broken hallelujahs,
and Easter lilies
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