fears of death #poem #poetry

….
ah, I forgot to tell you when I meet you in my dreams
Arabella still sells bracelets in the silver market
she asks me every time about you
I lie and promise her you’ll come next time
to buy another bracelet and some juicy limes

now in the silence of long purple nights
my silver bracelets cannot hurt you anymore 
but every minute you are not with me
cuts yet another wound into my soul

fragment from the poem Fears of Death

@short-prose-fiction(Gabriela M)

image: Zolotatevs; Shutterstock; [link]

 

Miguel #short prose #flash fiction

I can still hear that deep voice of his and see his striking profile against the walls of the Chartres Cathedral: tormented French Gothic autumn; agonizing blue eyes; gelid rain lingering on stained glass and trickling on my face like liquid wax at the feet of saints.

“Clara, Miguel needs to stop. He needs to give up. Make him do it or I will.”

Nobody could make Miguel give up. The verb “to give up” was not part of Miguel’s vocabulary.

Miguel was not General Santa Anna who lost the Battle of San Jacinto. At heart Miguel was Cortés. Cortés who conquered an empire. Cortés who enrolled God to help him. Cortés who destroyed and rebuilt.

Jacques had no chance.

Now, when I look back, alone in the mist of those haunting memories, my eyes lids heavy, my body weak, my lips cracked by fever, Angelo was right when he said:

“Wait, Clara, wait, you don’t know Jacques yet.”

In fact, none of us knew Jacques.  Not even Angelo.

How ironic.

Excerpt from the manuscript Glass Lovers

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

image: Kees Zwanenburg; Shutterstock; [link]

 

Will you vote for me? I was nominated Author of the Year and one of my poems is in the run for Publication of the Year at Spillwords Press (NYC)

My Dear Readers,

I was nominated Author of the Year at Spillwords Press. At the same time my poem “the breath of love and death” was nominated for Publication of the Year (Poetic). I am honored by those nominations.

Will you vote for me? If yes, please vote Gabriela M in the link below first two rubrics: Author of the Year and Publication of the Year (poetic).

I am in the third position under Author of the Year.

My poem “the breath of love and death” is the ninth position.

You do not need to have a Spillwords account to vote though it is easy to open one. You can vote with your Twitter or your FB account.

Voting will be officially held from January 26th – January 30th.

Thank you for your vote and congratulations to all nominees.

Vote

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

 

the biblical sense of to know #poem #poems

the biblical sense of to know
born in a summer that never existed
nailed to the cross of your poems
I’m losing my mind inside the blue night
I reach you in dreams you do not understand
It hurts when I’m there
It hurts when I’m not
I ask for the help gravediggers can grant
I wrote I love you on a note that I locked
It wasn’t a snake, it was an iguana
the night the tango nuevo played its guitar
on fifteen decades you counted your prayers
my fingers were naked
my fingers were gloved

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

image: agsandrew; Shutterstock; [link]

 

the kiss of no return #poem #poetry

pain is dripping from guitars
into sunsets with no end
pigeons guide ships lost at sea
tears drop from plumy skies

oh, how your fingers touch the chords
how my heart swells at your sight
how your kisses burn my neck
how the mountain splits
the sky

listen,
to the night of oleanders
to the magic of the key which turns
take me to the kiss of no return
when the sky is turning blue
and we’re centuries apart
let me kneel
in front of you

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

image: nodff; Shutterstock; [link]

 

Fires of the mind #short prose #flash fiction #prose poem

First, one’s mind catered to the other.

Then they started praying upon each other’s art: one’s imagination crawling on and playing with the other’s like two lion cubs frolicking on Africa’s grasslands.

By the time physical love came into play, they were already burning like two pieces of glass in a Murano furnace.

In the end, a lonely man found a mound of shattered glass on a back alley.

It would have been much easier if they would have kept their art separate.

Yet they didn’t.

Excerpt from the manuscript Passion: Love Poems and Other Writings

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

image: Sandratsky Dmitriy; Shutterstock; [link]

 

Destinies #short prose #flash fiction #amwriting

Our destinies caught inside the lines of my left palm.

With my right index finger, I trace those lines again and again, until I cannot breathe anymore, until my left palm bleeds.

None of us can be judged outside endless flights between continents, outside of our tears and of our love for art, outside of the slippery slope that runs from amitié amoureuse to deep impassioned love.

One day all of us will have to understand that the past should stay in the past.

That day is inscribed in my left palm together with our pain, and our tendencies toward the kind of love that transcends earthly boundaries.

Excerpt from the manuscript Glass Lovers 

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

image: agsandrew; Shutterstock; [link]

 

my poem “Initiation” up to Vita Brevis Poetry Magazine #poem #published

deification of the virgin nymph
within my palms
the flesh of violet sunsets flips like fish on land
my eyes, inheritors of light
singular sinkholes punctuating a low sky
your love…
continue reading with WP here
or
on Vita Brevis Press here.

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M.)

image: Everett – Art; Shutterstock; [link]

 

Two of my poems included in “Pain & Renewal: A Poetry Anthology” published by Vita Brevis Press #poetry #anthology

My Dear Readers,

Vita Brevis just published Pain & Renewal: A Poetry Anthology. I have two poems included: The Dark Flag of Pain and Autumn Healing.

Pain & Renewal features a collection of incredible voices — from Pulitzer and Pushcart prize winners to brand new poets, it’s filled with moving poetry about the highs and lows of the human experience.”

You can get the digital version here.

And you can get the print version here.

Here is a snippet from my poem Autumn Healing:

..this autumn stretches purple shadows
over unending fields of sweet corn and hurt souls
it brings from the depth the lacustrine goddess
who heals all wounds with yesterday’s mirth…

@Short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

 

 

In the shadows of those streets #short prose #flash fiction

I lurked in the shadows of those streets the entire night: solitaries, madmen, prostitutes, somnambulists. After a while I couldn’t distinguish among them.

My steps were meaningless. My senses were tranquilized by that vision of him scribbling his last letter to me under a pale winter moon. The child was probably happy, playing at his feet. It wasn’t his child, but…

The beat of the streets became one with the unstoppable movements of his heart in my own chest. He left his love to me like some kind of inheritance.

Why retreat alone with the child on a remote island?

Afterall the city did not do more than compromise the least part of him: his ego.

Blood is dateless. The ego is not. Which part did he not understand?

 

Excerpt from the manuscript Glass Lovers

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

image:  Dmytro Vietrov; Shutterstock; [link]