Juan Pablo Duboue- Three Poems

Ablution:

 

Shadows in the house,
sun reflected in the riverbed
warms the canoes.
Overshadowed by the oaks,
in the shade of the willows
a sacrifice takes place.

Hours went by
gazing at the solemn feast.
Now moon and stars
And darkness.
Silent,
Enveloping.

If you ever find
Deception,
Then come back to me
We will go to the river,
purify you again.

Although I believe
from the bottom of my heart
Finer fruits
Have already been tasted.

Do not deprecate
Do not deprecate.

Ablution
is necessary,
sacred,
paramount.

Rules are to be followed,
Practice makes perfect
Practice makes perfect.

Tales and legends will
Be written
To honor you.

Lunch:

 

I.
The curtain of white smoke feels like
An intravenous painkiller
Rather than a blackening,
Arsenic based narcotic.
Such is the calm before the storm.

II.
She sleeps in a fairy tale slumber
Dyed in white and pink
Unaware of the turmoil going on around her
A faint ray of light enters the scene,
Damn you mischievous poltergeist!
Bell rings, the couple arrives.

III.
The rattling of pans, silverware and bowls
Seems to be lost in the greeting ritual of
Her and her husband
Such joy, worthy of envy
By the usual latecomers.

IV.
Banshee screams in her cave as
A display of delicatessen is arrayed
In a fashion reminiscent of the 80s cuisine
Meat, potatoes, gravy, a procession of salads
And gruyere.
In the living room, he talks politics.

V.
She enters the cave with a homemade pie
Leaving her fruity scent behind as
She crosses the threshold
And exchanges some daggers and flowers
With her matriarch.

VI.
He sits silently, either lost for words 
Or choosing to remain chivalrously mute
As the T.V. shows a top ten of tennis matches
And the patriarch talks politics,
Then a little soccer
A little golf, a little tennis…
- He makes some polite remarks.

VI.
A delicious mixture of coffee and tobacco
Drips down the stairs
Enveloping the living room with her presence
Dressed in her usual gray and black 
Bell rings again, twice.

VII.
As he complains about his ill fate
She walks ceremoniously with an air of superiority
Discussing her latest creation
And her newly acquired award.
I do not envy her: I want to be like her.

VIII.
The husband’s scruffy appearance
Seems to contrast her pristine look
-Opposites do attract-
For as he plunges into the nearest sofa ungraciously
I am appalled by this weird match made in Heaven (?)

IX.
As the ladies commune in the cave
She is woken up at the arrival
Of her protégé 
Dressed a bit too sexy for her age,
Her parents evidently tired by her imposition.

X.
Drag myself down the ivory stairs
To the usual weekly routine
Of fake smiles and sharp comments
Much resembling an intervention,
A high school reunion, even.

XI.
These people actually love each other
Love
Can take many shapes and forms
Can’t it? 

Not:

 

Not you, not him
Not anyone will substitute his absence.
I do not need you, average macho
Go raise your own and leave me be.

Your love for me
Masked in bigotry and ever sharpening daggers.
I did not wish for you, farewell
Go toughen up some other orphan.

Not you, not him
Not anyone will represent his qualities.
These may be few and ordinary,
But enough to keep me virtuous.

Your affection, uncalled for
Ravenous puppet devouring 
My shelter in obvious condescension 
Go teach someone else, you ghoul!

Not you, not him
Not anyone will make up for his faults
I do not see you, ape-like creature
Go bruise another troubled teen.

Your attention is unholy,
Not the tallest, not the strongest 
Just a servant perpetrating
This social disorder.

Juan Pablo Duboue was born in Mendoza, Argentina in 1986. Currently pursuing a masters in Contemporary English Literature, he works as a teacher, interpreter and translator. Apart from writing poetry and short stories, Juan Pablo is also a singer and a ballet dancer.