“I now live in a house with my beautiful wife and two more or less grown-up children ( aka the Leopard Lad and the Bandit Princess ) a small dog and numerous instruments, paintings, puppets, books and other presences. The moon comes to visit regularly, and towards morning, we can hear lions roaring. My saxophones seem to be breeding lately.”
In 2009, Ivan published his first book of poetry.
MORE THAN SUMMER
(Mendelssohn, Songs without words, Consolation.)
It was only when the Muse came back and talked to me at last
that
I could return from those
streets of thorn cities of stone
feelings at cut-price rates and salvation freeze-dried
Life
cuts with gusto but only skin-deep
Death, however,
slices around down
down to the bone and after all
we are not made of wood
that splinters wood that burns
and it’s more than just a speaking part more than just another curtain-call
and I just had to ask her
if it was still summer or were these good times over for now or forever –
yes but you know, she said, Icarus
is gone and Daedalus has landed
and words are written for the music
or else you’d be singing to the deaf
dancing for the blind
swinging to the left prancing on behind
and then with a whirr and wings aflap she was off and left me standing there
staring outside as the rain softly weeps into the faraway
treetops………
She always did speak
in riddles.
READER 24