"The Billy's Tree" (2015)

The Billy's Tree

In memory of Billy Lucas.
(July 18, 1995 – September 9, 2010)


A 15-year-old Indiana teen took his own life in what is thought to be another suicide at least partially connected to school bullying, a result of the teen’s perceived sexual orientation. Lucas reportedly never self-identified as gay.
Billy Lucas, 15, Hangs Himself After Classmates Called Him a ‘Fag’ One Too Many Times Friends say bullying went too far after a 15-year-old high school freshman committed suicide. The apparent target of bullies, high school freshman Billy Lucas had told friends and school administrators that he was happy in high school and was starting to settle in. "Pretty outgoing young man," Greensburg High School Principal Phil Chappel said of Lucas.
"He was threatened to get beat up every day," friend and classmate Nick Hughes said. "Sometimes in classes, kids would act like they were going to punch him and stuff and push him." Chappel said that no one had been punished for picking on Lucas, and that bullying had not even hit their radar. Friends of Lucas say that he had been tormented for years.
His mother found her son, hanging, in their barn. On Billy’s Facebook web memorial, he’s remembered with comments like, “Everyone made fun of him.”

R.I.P Billy Lucas



Along with spasms of lament and of plaint
I feel the fury fill my spirit faint.
Commiserate and curse, entreat and damn
The crime that still nobody would condemn.

Still no one pays for mirthful infant world
Been ravaged and extinguished in his eyes.
Your colours died against their flame of scold
The nameless blame, the subtle soul demise.

The Billy’s tree where morning rays of sun
Got lost and froze and where the throe’s begun
Enthrals my eyes and roots stuck in my heart
Do wreathe around me like the devil’s guard.

Do all those leaves and grasses of July
Whisper your name? Do winds embosom your
Warm scent ripped from the swarthy skin ally
To honey and the bees – the peaceful yore?

The choirs of the dead this life injust,
This godless life will never heed but us –
We could’ve find some kindness and explore,
Make better world a very little more.

Sudarium painted by the vernal gore,
The innocent died for uncertain tobe –
Will you bename redemption any more?
What price is for the child’s tears on your robe?

There in the Billy’s tree I leave my hope,
Red ribbon to adorn September’s cope.
May custodian flutter it no less
Than precious name will my sore heart caress.

Voice Of The Distant Star

They love their pets,
fill up the silence,
they know all about sex
and they don't make no violence.

In this disposable world
they are nothing like substitute
but one by one in a fold
they change your ambience so cute

... and then melt in the odors of night
so fatefully,
disappear in the blurred autumn night
helplessly...

And your first "hello" and their last "goodbye"
are running the light-years in the desolate sky
leaving the shimmering light prints afar
like the scar -
the voice of the distant star.

They are so quick to forget
but you will always remember
Voice of the distant star
the fondling somebody's left
and hugs returned to the sender,
the warmest breath and the words,
the whispers settled down in you.
The one has fingered your chords,
another one will continue...

... then melt in the odors of night
so fatefully,
disappear in the blurred autumn night
helplessly...

And Heaven Comes Along

May dainty autumn night be our bed,
Thaumaturgy and mansuete limbs dulia
As flinty riverines hem round ahead
Thy sweetest waters of my bitter lies.

The wormwood star has drown'd in vaporous well
And winds stray'd in the bacchic of thy hair,
Thy scrannel arms like shaveling-cehrub quell
Witch'd by thy girlie's pulchritude so fair.

May dampy vernal day be our shield
Where on the porch your white dove spreads the wings.
And like the beggars on the parvis kneel
The morrow craves the rain's cathartic strings.

Man taking names to choir of his stones
Seal'd our hearts with certitude of fate.
The homies gone, the heaven comes along
But plenitude therein no one can bate.

Thy whisper sobb'd: "Keep livin' when I go,
Don't harm thyself - as that should be my bliss".
I had no answer but in wailful glow
I'd not unwind without a single kiss.

My teraphim left in the cadent rain
In laurel bed where spiders weave the way,
Oh, bitterness to never wake again -
The happiness of days to pass away.

My peaceful eld, drink veneries adeem'd -
Marcescible the senile youth of mine,
This threne, my love, until my eyes grow dim,
This funeral for two will us entwine.



P.S.

Je s'insurge de le poussiere miracle.
Repondrez-moi de mon destin terrestre.
J'ai vu la verite dans votre dextre
Ecoutant le voix de la mutite.
Mais il n'y a pas du nerf dans ces doigts secs...

Je rendrai le silence
De tous mes chambres,
Quand je t'oublie comme la chanson d'enfance,
Lentement et peniblement, comme le pays du passe,
Parmi tes etoiles froids et douloureux
Subtilement je suis devenu l'oiseau du feu
Qui se tourne dans la valse
De la solitude...


Tunc Venus in sylvis jungebat corpora amnatum
In omnire scibili
Quarta die, sinilis amor.
Moenibus suridis, campana muta.
Aperto vivere voto...
Plaudite!




26.04.2015