Two Poems

Peycho Kanev

While shaving

Standing in front of the mirror;

I can see no face
no body
no beard

holding the rusty razor
shaking in my hand

Am I real?

Foam and
towel and
soap

everything seems real enough,
adequate

but why I feel like I lost
everything

I took another glance in
the mirror

and it only shows me back
clock without

hands.

***

My old watch

My old watch is slicing me
little by little,
piece by piece,
second after second.

My old watch is showing me
that it only can measure itself,
not the growing of my beard
or the blinking of Supernova,
nor cycle of the fly.

There are some small parts within:
wheels, rollers, pins and pallets,
working together like my own components:
liver, bowels, kidneys, veins, heart.

Making their little statements
as I move elegantly toward
the lips of the grave;

but there are some miracles around me
too:

12 angels on the pin head,

 dogs running under the sun,

ships enter the harbors.

My old watch is life’s chain;
it goes from father to son,
like old spark of fire from
the dawn of history.

My old watch is showing me
that is time to kiss my girl,
feed the cat and
water the flowers.

That is good enough.

Peycho Kanev's work has been published in Welter, The Catalonian Review, Off Beat Pulp, Nerve Cowboy, Chiron Review, Tonopah Review, Mad Swirl, Southern Ocean Review, The Houston Literary Review and many others. He has been nominated for Pushcart Award and lives in Chicago. His new collaborative collection "r", containing poetry by him and by Felino Soriano, as well as photography from Duane Locke and Edward Wells II is now available at Amazon.com

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