Polirritmo (Poem) of the German Winter Shower

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((A memo of 1970, in Augsburg Germany)(multi rhythm poem))

I have an arch-enemy here in the barracks

it tries to eat me, slowly, it works on the mind

it has one big eye, looks down upon me like God

in this case perhaps the devil…

it lives to be my thorn,

I know this as plain as the nose on my face.

I slant to the side, right and left

the water is running, running in one spot

warm, barely hot, can’t seem to get enough of it

old showers, rusted old showers, half thrust

weak power push, as if someone’s sucking it all out

before I get it, leaves me only enough to wish I had more.

I wonder how the Nazis contended with this.

Slap my face, slap my face, the chill of the air seeps

seeps through the windows…cold breeze on my feet

old and warn showers, my face is hot

my torso cold, my feet hot my face cold

my belly warm, my arms cold…can’t have it all;

the top of my head is chilled; cars car-tires I hear

outside alongside, flanking I think, the building,

the barracks…horns, it is just first light…

a pale gray from the window (it dribbling on my head)

my steel chrome teeth are shuttering

like a galloping race horse.

I wonder how the Nazis contended with it.

Cold as a cat’s meow running from a mouse

down this old World War Two Hallway

quivering and dodging the green saggy walls

trying to get to my room to warm up

before formation, before the brass horn sounds

(to salute the flag, run around the buildings

as of my heart wouldn’t be pumped up already)

my heart humming like a purring car engine

my eyes flashing like windshield wipers bobbing

the barracks is like a beehive–full of unthawing life!

Like fish half frozen, coming back to life, snapping

Flapping its flippers, jumping to kick-start the heart!

This winter’s cold stretches my neck veins,

my internal guts, like pumping pistons,

where’s my, my–blanket? (a question to the mind

the big eye don’t like);

wind, wind coil it around me like a cocoon!

I wonder how the Nazis contented with this!

Up, down, up down, up down…

I feel like a clown jumping like this

as if I was a confused bullet…:

plunge heart into the pumping, pumping!

I stop, I have to wind down…

Bodies walking by, down the hallway–

wind down I say, down, down, down…

They already got their engines started

rr perhaps didn’t take a shower…?

Breathing better, reflexes not sputtering,

motor functions operating,

everything’s back to normal…liberty!

my body’s inflamed with heat again,

a spirit filled heat;

the eye didn’t get me today, no not yet.

I’ll never get used to these winter showers!…never!

I wonder how the Nazis contented with this!

No: 1925 8-2-2008. Moving and condensed poetry, poetry that captures the movement and spirit of the theme is seldom done, and can only be done by someone who has experienced the motion, the condensed actions, and here we have a trip to a German shower (yes just a simple trip, the things life are made up of), in 1970, in the city of Augsburg, West Germany, when I was a soldier, a Private in the Army, USA, when I was 22-years old, something’s never leave you…simple things, but perhaps to certain people, in this case, me, it is no different than a motorcycle ride, one that lasted for 10-months, and in the cold deep of the winter the shower was my arch-rival, it the sense of, it seemed to have its own life. I like the poetry of Juan Parra Del Riego, I enjoy it it tells you the real moment of action, when it is taking place, and so I try to capture this moment in a multi rhythm order. Called Polirritmo. I thought about doing this poem for many years, but was not sure how to produce it without losing its value, its character, its theme, premise, and so I do it the only way I know. And I dedicated this poem to Juan Parra del Riego, for his works have inspired me. This style of poetry has several rhythms to it.

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write by Sherwin