Tuesday, June 28, 2011


   Photo history
My mama;
dressed in crepe de chine and silk
played the piano into the chaos.
One night she spread her wings,
tired of all the sounds;
she stood up from the blue,
without looking at anybody,
without looking at me,
… and then she collapsed into the album.
In the corner of each wall there is a spider knitting
its own sticky mantle hidden in the dark.
Incredibly slow night, one of those when you
pray to the long hand to move just a bit.
“Gulp-gulp-gulp,” says the bottle to the empty
cup, and then, everything becomes quiet again.
Silent movies are showing on the dirty ceiling,
and in the breviary, the angel’s tongues are cut off.
The house is taken under siege by the darkness.
Into the obscure pages of the night someone is
scribbling with a hazy quill your days to come and
the branches of trees bend over in expectation.
So unusual, this night! You can hear no barking about,
and the stars upon the lid of the world flicker mute.
It is so quiet and you wonder, if you light your cigarette,
what the silence will say.

About Peycho Kanev:
Peycho Kanev is the Editor In Chief of Kanev Books. His poems have appeared in more than 400 literary magazines, such as: Poetry Quarterly, The Monongahela Review, Ann Arbor Review, Midwest Literary Review, Loch Raven Review, In Posse Review, The Penwood Review, Mascara Literary Review, The Mayo Review and many others. He is nominated for the Pushcart Award and lives in Chicago. In 2009 his short story collection “Walking Through Walls” (Ciela), and in April 2010 his poetry collection “American Notebooks” (Ciela) both were published in Bulgaria. His new poetry collection “Bone Silence” was released in September 2010 by Desperanto, NY.


  1. Peycho's poetry always as an otherworldliness to it -- and it's always a pleasure.

  2. Terrific poems, Peycho. I wanted to say I like one more than the other but I like both so much I can't say that. The image of your mom collapsing into the album is startling. The other poem is perfect surreal-noir.