Author Archives: Louis Kasatkin

About Louis Kasatkin

Unadulterated commentary and analyses on all aspects of contemporary literary arts news and topics, can be viewed on twitter under the cunning guise of @louiskasatkin also at my blogs,"fahrenheit451"on blogger.com and "And So It Goes"@ www.wordpress.com My facebook page etc.etc, ad infinitum...

Dummy

In the darkened gloom

of a wooden tomb,

you kept me smothered

in a dank ,musty cloth,

my burial shroud wrapped around me,

like nightmares wrap themselves

around my dreams

were I be allowed to dream,

to suffocate on my own dust

passing time watching iron nails rust,

distant noises muffled

my own screams caught in a throat

that cannot issue its own currency of speech,

my counterfeit visage

its motionless mouth,

my fugue turns a darker shade of night;

until,

until,

until you release me

on parole again;

and as I sit obediently on your knee,

the applause reaches its crescendo

and you bow your head

as Charles did upon the chopping block

to which my thoughts stray

and before you put me back

into the wooden tomb,

I know now,

what I must do…

Visible (by Jade Thomas)

Visible

And he said it never happened…

However, she still felt a sharp pinch in the pit of her stomach, her pupils widened. The back of her neck began to sweat.Thoughts consumed her entire body and for once, her memories of another women enlarged.

How could she forget? How could she forgive?The love of her life could not cause her any pain. She knew he was dedicated to his work as much as he was to her. He amended his past and gave her anything her heart desired.

So why did he glance more than once that summer’s day and patted the neighbour’s pretty shoulder when she came home claiming she had been fired?

How could she have been so visionless? How could she have been gullible?

Are these thoughts all a coincidence or now has she become more visible?

He made a beautiful vow, her husband caressed her into his arms, the same places she always felt protected. “She is jealous”! He justified.

She stared with her blue eyes at the sparkle in her wedding ring, she felt disconnected.Her hopes and dreams shattered into a million pieces while she felt their first kiss on her lips. Once again the magical power of feeling in love.

She could still hear his voice through the pounding of her heartbeat. His declaration of undying love would always be with her but now would never be enough.

Suddenly, her mind was screaming aloud and nothing in the entire world mattered anymore. Unforgiving images came flooding into her perfect life.

She could not handle the pressure of her soul darkening; she clenched the sharpest kitchen blade that hung down symmetrically to their family portrait.

She was no longer a person with a conscience or even a human being; she was no longer a beloved wife.

Staring Contest

See the empty pages

staring,

staring back at you

staring as you stare

at them:

All those pages,

empty,void and

blank

waiting for a stroke

of your pen

the cut and thrust

of some intellect and

a little wit;

Scratches on the surface

of the Sun,

etchings on the landscape

of the Moon;

and still you stare at them

whilst they’re staring back

at you,

and you alone

hold the pen.

Excerpts from a Conversation

Who are you again?

Oh,that’s right!

yes,I remember now;

who,me?

yeah,yeah..

erm,no,you’re thinking about someone else,

no,he was there round about the same time,

yeah,that’s right,

and you?

cancer of the bowel? wow!

no,I..I’m sorry to hear that?

Me? oh coming up to 30 years..

Department of Work and Pensions,Benefits,

erm,well no,not particularly

I can’t remember ever sanctioning anyone suffering from cancer;

Tens of thousands? really?

that’s just shocking!

Yeah, I am a Union member..

Oh,I don’t know..

anyhow,nice catching up with you..

see you around again sometime?

The Bridge On The River Aire

Spine
spinal,
vertebrae
marks to be read
lines in a story
in tongues
we once knew;
thread
and threads
threadbare
woven
in movement
thro’ stilness,
alive in the noise
of silence,
flow flowing
ebb ebbing,
a corpus of whom,
of when ,of how,
of where we are,
were,will be,
remaining remembered
renewed thro’ riving
purposed writhing,
reaching a not
purposed slipping
into camouflage
in its own setting;
of a particular
space and time,
now caught,
now released,
animate intense
passively resisting
our questions,
wonder,
hope.

With Good Intentions

Tears welled in his eyes as his failing concentration felt respite at last. His breast filled with inexpressible relief with the knowledge of yet another young life saved; A three hours long emergency operation fraught with unimaginable risks had been successful.

He silently gave thanks that his surgical skills were again exonerated despite the excruciating cramp around his fingers and stiffness in his joints;

He reflected momentarily on the ineluctable fact that he was Master Surgeon still; after all these very long thirty years of exemplary service and adherence to duty.

He had initially greeted the move to this provincial town after his inaugural sojourn in the imperial capital-having attended the Kaiser Franz Josef himself on several occasions- as something of a demerit.

And yet, shuffling wearily down the marathon corridor, his gaunt shadow cast almost majestically by the billowing, flickering gaslight made it seem inexplicably brighter still.

Eyes wearied by concentration, he barely recognised the faces of those nurses and his fellow surgeons who congratulated him with undue but welcome muted applause as he proceeded with rising spirits to the waiting room area.

He had saved a very precious young life; one that had he not stilled his recurring and unpredictable hand tremors with a small dose of laudanum beforehand, might so easily have attained an altogether less favourable outcome.

That knowledge aired only in his internal silent monologue that accompanied his footsteps like a silent drumroll of a conscience long since unacquainted with mere frivolous compassion.

Approaching the large waiting room area out into the fading late afternoon light was a great doctor who had fretted and performed near surgical miracles and was about to impart and share welcome news with the anxious parents who had now so many long hours ago rushed their child to this hospital and into the care of this master surgeon.

Face to face with the anxious ,waiting Mother, he of the wizened countenance and pedantic professional demeanour and she a complexion masked with tiredness and etched with a maternal hope beyond hope, something he had witnessed hundreds and hundreds of times for so many years.

She broached the question in a still, small voice that he scarcely heard though he knew what they were.

“Is He..? ”

“He is fine, there are no complications”

“When we brought him in, I thought he might die”

“No worries dear Lady, I’m sure your son will enjoy a long and happy life”

Tears of inestimable gratitude welled momentarily in her kindly eyes,

“Thank you Herr Doktor”

“Good day…Frau Hitler,”

Requiem For A Fighter

Chico Torres
practitioner of the pugilistic arts,
was considered by his employers
the “Men” from Reno, Nevada
as the best light heavyweight
prospect of his generation;
Chico would’ve gone on to challenge
the renowned Hagler and Hearns
and like them had his glory,
become beatified and transcendent
in the hearts of his compatriots,
but the moon crossing Sagittarius
made such a moment inauspicious;
repeated adrenalin-thrusted blows
spurting fountains of scarlet
the viscerality of their acute pain
of bone on bone on bone
sending Chico and his compatriots’ dreams
crashing down down into canvass oblivion;
his brain torn
slashed kidneys bleeding
and oxygen failing,
for Chico Torres,
the moment of glory
had already passed.

Lunchtime Interlude

There is Bach

playing on the radio,

and I am sat

at the dining table,

having finished my

lunchtime repast,

there is cabarnet shiraz

in my glass,

and I savour

all of these moments

now,

now passing,

now gone,

only

to be

repeated.

Author’s footnote;

Composed 1:11 -1:14 pm.

( He prepares a table before me..)