Cemetery Opened Its Mouth Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The cemetery opened
Its mouth
In those dark night
Silhouettes:
Its giant teeth - not
As the crocodile -
It looked like a small
Bird as to a lion -
Then the jaws of the tombs
Opened
The swollen skeletons
And
Cadavers
Roamed
And their teeth and bones
Rattled.

V
Why do you speak so much of
and
Utter
the word cemetery
asked the Monsignor.
My friend said I
These are the flagships
Of that sub-conscious civilization
I and you have still to know
More and more.
At night we dream bits and
Pieces.
At Dawn the first lights wake
Our bedazzled eyes
The Conscious blocks
The vast libraries of the Sub-Conscious
In the brain
Alas! we lose their transformation
To Sub-Conscious!
A part of the Sub-Conscious
Yet
It shakes us so.
There are waters for
The parched
There be manna for
The hungry.
The Sub-Conscious is the great
Provider.
The Conscious has its limits.
Not so the Sub-Conscious.
Uncage the bird
The blood will not
Scream loud
Be pacified
The same with that
Inner Soul that in the
Sub-Conscious dwells and
Thrives.
He kept it as a jewel
The Day of the Waters
He sprinkled here and
There
To cool the sweltering heat.
But summer wins!
The same as irresistible
Winter and its tanks.
Blood and water
Bayonets and executions
Night that weeps
Dawn that cries
Sacks falling under the
Firing of the bayonets
Falling into the
Sacrilegious common grave.
Sangre y agua
bayonetas y las ejecuciones
que llora Noche
Alba, que llora
sacos de los disparos de
las bayonetas
de la sacrílega
fosa común.