Lara Roozemond – My Super Hero

I declare Lara my ‘Super Hero’. I know now she leads a double life. Only I can be this lonely, the caged romantic behind a mask. She goes out at night. But, not on a date with a mortal. Her gang of suitors were not born in this lifetime. They missed the double decker bus, and the gondola ride.

So Lara goes it alone, plays the harp at midnight under a bridge on the Seine. I would like to be there with her, carrying a bottle of champagne in a violin case, just in case, she acknowledges my existence.

In the blue ink morn I wake the sleeping beggars curled up across the street in the park, as I creep closer so I can hear, her new Sonata, her liturgy to loneliness, her, Lovemaking – of self! I muffle my long sigh! I go running down the rainy streets, far enough, so that I can scream……….”Lara!”

Jon Presco

levend op een plek waar ik droom over andere plekken

klim ik met de snelheid van een onstilbare schreeuw

tijdelijk verdwaald maar niet verloren

op zoek naar een open eind, hunkerend naar een uitweg

maar ik bereik slechts de onoverbrugbare kloof

tussen de realiteit en mijn dromen

en voel dat de hoogtevrees ieder moment gaat komen.

Locked in self-blame, lost direction for a moment
living in a place where I dream about other places
I climb at the speed of an unstoppable scream
temporarily lost but not lost
looking for an open end, yearning for a way out
but I only reach the unbridgeable gap
between reality and my dreams
and feel that the fear of heights will come every moment.