Christina Schwarz, author of the New York Times Bestseller “Drowning Ruth,” on my poetry

My Dear Readers,

I thanked you many times for your likes and comments. I thank you again today.

Also, today I am humbled and delighted by the comments Christina Schwarz, the author of the New York Times Bestseller “Drowning Ruth,” sent me after reading my poetry manuscript.

“With lush language and lavish imagery, Gabriela M. evokes a fantastic world ripe with emotion.”
Christina Schwartz

Below please find a fragment from one of my “evening fantasies”:

contaminated with verses my rebellious red blood ran from my heart to yours;
the smell of orange trees bloomed in my hair like in those forgotten Sunday afternoons in which we used to make love;
i saw the pregnant egg yolk – heavy as the passion of a tropical night – the imperishable yellow from around your finger;
a green iguana blinked and opened its “third eye” inscribing on my thighs the fairy-tales of the women you loved;
a bird gave me the evil eye: children’s fingers colored in blue hung on the Hand of Fatima trying to protect me;
it smelled love;
caressed by leaves i fell into the field of poppies in which we first met.

Yours,

G.

@short-prose-fiction

image: MoinMoin; Shutterstock; [link]

forgotten in the Port of Naples #poem #poetry

this summer
meet me in the Port of Naples
in humid nights inside the Palace of Capodimonte
let’s write again the “Human Comedy”
your love for me
a million of daggers
will cut the arteries of the blue sea
my luscious lips buried in blood and dust from the volcano
erotically settled in your poetry
against the coolness of the walls
your fingers, tracers of old tears
will mold us into a single body of loneliness and lust
sick with jealousy and shocked
a pale Campanian sunrise
whose rays, for centuries, barely can see
will find us walking hand in hand
along the quay…

forgotten in the Port of Naples
the memory of you and me

@short-prose-fiction

image: kasyanovart; Shutterstock, [link]

my newest poem “bewitched” published by the Indian Periodical #poetry

My Dear Readers,
My newest poem “bewitched” published by the Indian Periodical.

perhaps I was bewitched by the North Star
or by a ballad as dateless as my blood
geography of feelings populates unwanted interludes
my eyes, the nests of dewy grass and leaves
emerald eyelashes flaunt
please continue reading here 

Love and hugs to everyone!
G.

image: May_Lana; Shutterstock; [link]

My poem “the ridicule of the unknown” published by Vita Brevis

Dear Readers,
My poem “the ridicule of the unknown” published by Vita Brevis.
I want you to know how much I appreciate you reading my work and inspiring me.
Yours
G.

your eyes, the prohibition of cold winters
my eyes, the wanderers of earth
a copper sea mimics the candor
silence flies over the same archipelago
ah, Madeira
golden feathers are your waters
your lips taste wine
please continue reading here

@short-prose-fiction

 

My poem “triolets” published by Spillwords Press #poetry

Dear Readers,
My poem “triolets” published by Spillwords Press.
Please know that your support and love are the real inspiration behind my work.

triolets 

I wish to see you walk through the Arco de Elvira, to find out your name and shed a tear.” Federico García Lorca.

a violet sunset laments in the city
saps of triolets flow on my neck
ah, Granada
i stretch inside your memory
like felines on grasslands
a lily cries
my bracelets dangle
the eyes of candles flicker in your Spanish nights

fingers of lascivious desires
please continue reading here

until the end of my life and beyond #short prose #flash fiction

“I, Miguel Julian Veracruz, take you to be my wife until the end of my life and beyond. I swear on the true cross of my ancestors who endured famine, who fought hurricanes, who sailed their ships through darkness and light into the vastness of the ocean, bible in one hand and sword in the other, to love you until the end of all worlds. My ancestors killed. May my love for you wash the blood from their hands. My ancestors burned down temples. May the fire of my love for you redeem them. May […]

Say yes, Clara, say yes, please!”

Miguel’s words cut the sky in two. The green of his eyes looked exactly like that of his Maria de Guadalupe medallion which he never took off. That beautiful silver Spanish ring, a family heirloom, worn by his mother on the fourth finger of her right hand, appeared on his palm out of nowhere.
*
Lightning struck the waters. A whirlpool of colors flamed the boat; the air was spinning around me like a tornado let lose over the face of the earth. My breathing stopped.  I thought I was imagining everything.
*
Jacques asked in that deep, unmistakable voice of his.

“Where were you Clara?”

“In Miguel’s boat on the waters of the Atlantic. In the beginning it looked like an ordinary Sunday afternoon. Miguel ordered the boat out.  I thought it was odd that he was not sailing it. He hired a captain whose wife cooked dinner, set the table, and brought a bunch of papers for us.  I did not know what they were.”

“What did you say, Clara?”

Excerpt from the manuscript “Glass Lovers” (draft)
@short-prose-fiction

image: Sofi photo; Shutterstock; [link]

amour (love) #poem #poetry

amour
your secret hides inside my name
inside the splendor of the night in which you didn’t say a word
feathers of macaw birds trace music sheets
the rays of sun stretch on the pebble beach
a fragrant song delights itself on my red lips
i rest my head on your left shoulder
into the lands of spices waiting to be born
we fall
some carnal dreams howl on the corridor
who cares?
i locked the door!
this morning we can die
we won’t tell a soul
and never ask for more
amour

@short-prose-fiction


image: Liliya Kulianionak; Shutterstock [link]

who are you? #published poem #Wolff Poetry Literary Magazine

My Dear Readers,

My poem “who are you?” published by Wolff Poetry Literary Magazine.

who are you?
which gale winds have blown you here?
which fallen saint showed you the way?
besieged by you, old loves abandoned in dark cemeteries
lament like choirs in my Hellenistic Greece
virgin thighs ferment inside your blood
scared azaleas tremble on my pillows…
continue reading here 

@short-prose-fiction

the ridicule of the unknown #poem #poetry

your eyes, the prohibition of cold winters
my eyes, the wanderers of earth
a copper sea mimics the candor
silence flies over the same archipelago
ah, Madeira
golden feathers are your waters
your lips taste wine
your breath smells corolla of flowers
we killed into your sands
the ridicule of the unknown
and went beyond
the ecstasies pantomimed
inside of the forever known

a golden yolk suspends itself in the warm air
a key is turning in a lock
the cries of winds vibrate an air sock

@short-prose-fiction