Radiance
You did not see the star
touching your chimney
nor did you feel the moon
touching your shoulder.
You yearned for the shift of the seasons,
expected the change of the clocks,
but not the shift of the colours,
the liquid gold in the air.
You did not see your radiance,
but someone else did,
your grace that carries like scent
before you have spoken a word.
When the sky was blue glass,
when the moon was a sphere,
a hand held up a mirror,
a wind kissed your hair.
Christina Egan ©2021
zz BEST POEMS
I am Singing my Song
I am Singing my Song
My life is not about me:
It is about the mountains
rising all around the horizon
in the dense blue of dreams.
It is about the mud I am made of,
the little trees which I must water,
the tall trees which give me breath.
It is about the rivers around me,
running, running without rest
and singing without doubt.
My face is priceless:
My face is mine alone, and
an echo of my ancestors’ faces,
a signal of my descendants’ faces.
My face is a sacred lake,
a blurred mirror of the sky,
of the mountains and trees.
I am drinking the sun,
I am walking my way,
I am singing my song.
Christina Egan ©2022
Inspired by Navajo and other
Native American philosophy.
Navajo pottery. Photograph:
Woody Hibbard, CC BY 2.0,
via Wikimedia Commons.
Three word clouds of this poem: one typed up on a Word document with all repetitions, two designed on the Simple Word Cloud Generator (left) and WordItOut (right), with the frequency of the words represented by their size and position. (You can click on the images to enlarge them.)
Via WordItOut, you can order badges or key-rings with the right-hand word cloud.
The Forest on Fire
The Forest on Fire
The forest on fire, filling the screen,
catches your eye, the living torches
of the towering pines, the sore soles
of the koalas, the bent skeletons
of the verandas. You notice at last
the whale on your doorstep,
led astray, stranded, gasping, or
the regal white bird, its wide wings
spread out on your beach, already
choked on your civilisation. Where
is the lark? Half your precious planet
is about to be razed. Face it.
When you rush out now to fight
the fire, the flood, and the festering waste,
do you not know it is too late
for you, yourself? The biting fumes
are invisibly running in the rivers
of your blood, the glittering garbage
is secretly heaped in the caves
of your bones, the drugs and counter-drugs
skip around in your brain. Doomed
you confess to be? You are due,
overdue. Half your precious life
has already been cancelled. It’s gone.
Christina Egan ©2021
Grün und gülden / Green and Golden
Grün und gülden
Auf der weiten Erdenscheibe
kauert meine kleine Bleibe
still in pfauenblauer Nacht;
und aus ungeheurer Ferne
steigen unzählbare Sterne
wie von Zauberhand entfacht.
Auf den unsichtbaren Gleisen
durch den Weltraum aber kreisen
zwei Gestirne um mein Dach:
Glück muß mir das güldne schreiben,
doch das grüne bringt mir Leiden,–
zwei verflochten tausendfach.
Christina Egan ©2017
Green and Golden
On the vast orb of the earth
clings my cottage to the turf,
hushed in night of peacock-blue;
from unfathomably far
still emerges star on star,
magically lit anew.
See, on secret tracks in space
two celestial bodies trace
orbits round my own abode:
golden star and green must bring
happiness and suffering –
interwoven thousandfold.
Christina Egan ©2023
For more musings on destiny, see the previous post, Zugefallen. There are sparkling stars in Zugefallen and flickering candles in the poem Zugewogen. Destiny is written in the stars, or rather, in the Heavens.
Nebra sky disk (Himmelsscheibe von Nebra), ca. 4000 years old. Photograph: JoKaliauer via Wikimedia Commons. Copyright: CC BY-SA 3.0.
Callisto, moon of Jupiter. Photograph taken by NASA’s Galileo spacecraft in 2001. NASA/JPL/DLR(German Aerospace Center), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
zugefallen
zugefallen
eine kristallkugel
schwebte überm wald
und berührte die wipfel
als ich dir zufiel
unsere namen
hingen in den sternen
überkreuz
es gibt keinen zufall
tausend bücher
hab ich an meiner wand
die schieb ich beiseite
wie einen vorhang
tausend gedichte
hab ich in meiner kiste
da steig ich hinüber
die brauchen wir nicht
denn ich schreibe dir
ein neues gedicht
eine neue sprache
ein neues schweigen
denn du schenkst mir
ein neues lächeln
ein neues leuchten
eine neue leichtigkeit
Christina Egan ©2021
Playing with the words
“Zufall” (conincidence)
and “zugefallen” (destined).
Is love written in the stars?
See my poem Zugewogen
about longing for love,
happiness, and destiny,
or rather, providence.
dream laundry
dream laundry
fast cars smart cars
fast food slow food
fast luck long luck
you can buy anything
the smiling people
the gliding people
the glossy people
on the posters prove it
you can buy their sofa
you can buy their surfboard
you can buy their smartphone
and relax indefinitely
you can buy their dreams
you can buy their memories
and your own memories
like tinned meat
boots on the beach
music on the pillow
pills for your babies
subscribe to well-being
everything is for sale
everything is on sale
every offer must end
but there is no end of offers
look here click here
see more do more
book now pay later
life is a cake
grab a coffee
grab a seat
snatch a date
download a dream
Christina Egan ©2019
This poem is also published in a local paper today, in print and online: Haringey Community Press, February 2024 (circulation 15,000).
The title is taken from Ingeborg Bachmann’s poem Reklame (1956), where she coins the word “Traumwäscherei” (dream laundry, laundry of dreams or through dreams?). The omnipresent publicity and cheerful music soothe your worries and questions – until they stop and leave you in “Totenstille” (deadly silence, or silence of the dead?).
The idea of downloading memories and dreams comes from science-fiction such as Ridley Scott’s movie Blade Runner (1982), M. T. Anderson’s novel Feed (2002), and Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel Klara and the Sun (2021). All three are superb and thoroughly disquieting.
The line “boots on the beach” comes from a particularly stupid – and sexist – video advertising hard drink by showing a young woman in a very scanty dress and very heavy boots. It played on a loop on several screens in a railway station so that there was no escape from it.
The line “music on the pillow” is inspired by Ray Bradbury’s novel Fahrenheit 451 (1953), where he predicts ceaseless entertainment broadcast onto our walls, even inviting participation, and into our ears, continuing into our sleep. The result is isolation and despair.
explosion der rosen
explosion der rosen
wir warten auf den goldenen oktober
ein kuppeldach aus himmelblauem glas
auf rote zungen überm alten zuber
brilliantensplitter im erfrischten gras
wir warten auf die explosion der rosen
auf pilze wie verwunschene gehölze
und auf die falsche pracht der herbstzeitlosen
als ob die welt sich nicht schon stumm bewölkte
als ob der glanz nicht mündete in moder
die dahlie wie ein feuerwerk verginge
wir warten auf den goldenen oktober
und tauschen küsse wie brilliantenringe
Christina Egan © 2017
Dahlia Garden in Fulda, Germany, in October.
Photograph: Christina Egan © 2010.
sonnenschein essen
sonnenschein essen
I.
rot-goldnes feuerwerk
dichte garben unablässig:
die hohen wipfel am waldessaum
in der zärtlichen brise
schwarz geäderte kristallkugeln
feingefaserte korallenkegel:
die bäume zwischen den giebeln
gegen den steigenden tagstern
schimmernde rokokoperlen
und leuchtende granate:
die gelben birnen im laub
die roten äpfel im gras
II.
die welt betrachten
wie ein gemälde
bild um bild um
bild
den sonnenschein essen
wie brot
und das brot
wie ein geschenk
gleichgewicht
von tag und nacht
heute ist
heute
Christina Egan © 2018
Beach at Bansin on Usedom (Baltic Sea). —
Photograph: Christina Egan © 2017.
frau (außen und innen)
frau
außen und
innen
ganz
frau
lebe ich
rund
träume ich
dunkel und
bunt
denke ich
durchdringend
ruhe ich
in mir
rufe ich
mein du
runde ich mich
um mein kind
gebäre ich
mein gedicht
berge ich
mein gebet
auch mein gesicht
ist lehm und
licht
ist ebenbild
Christina Egan © 1990
My early vision of my identity as a woman holds: centred around marriage and motherhood as well as thought and art, different from a man but absolutely equal — created from the same clay, not from a rib, and from the same spirit!
The central image is the round shape: this person is somehow round, gentle; she is rounded, balanced; bending herself around other things and other people in a natural impulse. Only her thoughts can be straight and piercing!
Jewellery from Lanzarote, made of lava, olivine, lapis lazuli. Photograph: Christina Egan © 2017.
Hochglanzfotos / glossy faces
Hochglanzfotos
Hochglanzfotos
von den letzten Hopi-Indianern
Hochglanzfenster
auf die Skyline der Zukunft
Hochglanzgesichter
ohne einen Schatten von Tod
das glitzernde Fest
über dem Abgrund
ist noch nicht ausverkauft
Christina Egan © 1990
glossy faces
glossy faces
framed by paper
framed by screens
framed by windows
painted faces
painted bodies
images of desires
images of images
sculpted and painted
masks and totems
with unseeing eyes
swarming around me
a mass of masks
each one an island
drifting in an ocean
of mute music
of flashing messages
clashing messages
fake facts
fake names
glossy faces
perfected
imperishable
and just so happy!
Christina Egan © 2018
While the second poem comes from a world of mobile devices and social media, the first one was written in 1989 or 1990, when computers (personal computers) where gradually being introduced and the internet (worldwide web) was only being invented. I must have been thinking of television and cinema, magazines and newspapers, posters perhaps or record covers…
Christina Egan 
