Twitter poem by Gabriela Marie Milton #poetry

My book Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings featured in San Francisco Book Review and Manhattan Book Review.

@Gabriela Marie Milton

The Orphic Egg – poem by Gabriela Marie Milton up at Vita Brevis Poetry Magazine

 Philipp Tur; Shutterstock

The builder of all things lives in me along with the seven disoriented ships he anchored in the port last spring.
The summer dried the sea. 
The wood of the ships got rotten. 
The masts got buried in the wickedness of empty sunsets. 
It is winter.
It is Wednesday.
I was in the washing room. I saw you folded my laundry.
In the library the Orphic Egg suspends itself from the ceiling fan.
Under its pale light I study my hands with the same precision the child studies his.
I shed my clothes as snakes shed their skin.  
I feel your index finger contouring my spine.
One by one your writings penetrate my mind. 
The dimorphism of your poems spiral in two directions: torrential love and logical deductions. 
They are both the product of your brain.  I cannot kill them. I must allow them to exit.  
The object of my poetry? 
Not to concede…

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My book Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings featured in San Francisco Book Review and Manhattan Book Review.

@Gabriela Marie Milton

Daughter of This Earth poem by Gabriela Marie Milton

inside the altars of the churches with blue cupolas
he recounts the spring cuckoo’s notes
his cries strip him of himself
modify his flesh until the days are born from the wounds of his feet
daughter of this earth
I can hear his bones cracking with love for you
his voice made from curses and myrrh
his body stretched between heaven and the bloom of the olive trees
his retina caught inside the limonite of the yellow marble
everything speaks of the impossibility of tomorrow
daughter of this earth
you
who travel in the lands of the snakes with no name
and shed your skin and your beauty in every sunset
you are the virginal sin in the nights of the hyacinths
show mercy
go back to him
the resurrection is near

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My book Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings featured in San Francisco Book Review and Manhattan Book Review.

@Gabriela Marie Milton

I want my body burned #poem #poetry #poetry collection

 Fernando Cortes; Shutterstock

I want my body burned on pyre
a Viking boat will take me far on the cold sea
I want to leave my grave goods for the poor
and take the pain which branded their souls
into a bursting aurora borealis fire
I want to feel the sobs of the North Pole.

I want to burn inside the rhythms of the flamenco
flame in the dancers’ passion in the streets of old Córdoba
I want to entertain rich masters for a piece of bread
inside the silent cries of those who are misunderstood
I want the desperation of the dancers dressed in red

and you, the one who always claimed to know
what powers lie inside the jungle of my soul
you’ll fade into your own acoustic lamentations
the fated day when I, the queen of sufferers, proclaim
that in the sanctity of the mandala
I want to disappear without a name

Included in my book: Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings

Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings featured in San Francisco Book Review and Manhattan Book Review.

@Gabriela Marie Milton

Neurosis #literature #fiction #prose poem

 Kiselev Andrey Valerevich; Shutterstock

I suspect I suffer from an acute crisis of half-bloomed neurosis. My past emotions do not fully interfere with my current experiences. The converse is true too. No sophistry added. How boring.

I jump in the water dressed in black lingerie made from Calais laces and Lyon silks. I can feel the waves pounding my body while my mind drowns in the ambiguity of the French Nouveau Roman standing mid-way between modernism and post-modernism like a drunken sunset that cannot distinguish between yellow and orange.

The foliage of the sea turns burgundy. Your fingers contour my face.

Oh, you.

I forget that my favorite poet is Arthur Rimbaud with his “A thousand Dreams within me softly burn” and “I shed more tears than God could ever have required.” All I remember is that once I wrote: “I’ve never existed outside of your obsession with me and my interpretations of you.” 

There is something about these interpretations that make you burst in cascades of laughter and art your love for me with lust.

One morning, left by my pillow I found your reply written on a large index card: “I had to bury your existence inside my obsessions. If not, your love could have not been fully stabilized. You above anyone else know that an absolute correspondence in love does not exist. Love is mathematical singularity.”

A wet little bird shivers in my palms. The foliage of the sea turns darker.

Your fingers contour the back of my neck.

My eyes catch fire.

Night, have mercy on us.

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excerpt from my upcoming collection of poetry

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My book Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings featured in San Francisco Book Review and Manhattan Book Review.

@Gabriela Marie Milton

On Winning #poem #short prose #literature

Liliya Kulianionak; Shutterstock

The afternoon smelled of brick wall; the wall I used to scratch with the knees and the nails on my way to the sea.

My blood stained my socks and fed the roots of the orange tree mama planted one spring before my seventh birthday.  Soon after the tree grew blood oranges.

I used to dream I would reach the port before crickets would serenade the white cement between the bricks, and the evening wind would sew the wounds from the face of the wall.

I needed a God to lead me to the sea. In mama’s stories there were too many Gods leading souls to heaven. I did not want to go to heaven. I wanted to go to the sea.

I used to fail.  I did not understand what failure is. The next afternoon, little ducks embroidered on the rim of my light blue dress, I would start climbing the wall again.

One day I thought I would get to the port and run straight into the sea.

Little did I know that day came when I first looked into your eyes. The ghosts of your victories and those of your wounds flapped inside your retina like laundry left to dry on a wire. Long red poles floundered left and right like the wings of a moribund bird.  The body of a boat eroded by salt, and by the kisses of the women of your past agonized in green and blue.

The sea inside your eyes: on the right your love for me and on the left your hate for the world. 

Did I say your love for me? You see, over time I had to reconsider that formulation. Your feelings resemble more a never-ending animal magnetism than love.

Let me make one thing clear. No one person is sufficient to drive all demons from another one. You can think Goethe’s elective affinities if you wish. I cannot save you from you. You need to help me.

I can carry this conversation into the night and win.

Ah, winning! The day I understood I can win I stepped into hell.

That day was the day I lost my innocence and with that the paradise. Since then, my blood has never stained my socks anymore. The orange tree has never grown red fleshed oranges, and mama stop telling stories.

I beg forgiveness every night.

Every night the number of my wins, and that of my enemies grows.

I became you as much as you became me.

Yet I know no hate. You do.

What’s wrong with me?

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My book Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings featured in San Francisco Book Review and Manhattan Book Review.

@Gabriela Marie Milton

The Promise of Us #poem #poetry #poetry collection

The three days that we spent in that city.

The evenings, intoxicated by the smell of linden trees and the intimation of grace, entered our imaginations as the air fills a restless balloon.  

Under the 7am cold shower the first morning blossomed into layers of rose and gold; shivering skin hoping for the warmth of a kiss.

The afternoons grew childbearing hips and spun them in the soft air; the floreo circularities of the flamenco dance. 

Our candlelight dinners with their buttery taste, creamy textures, and oaked aged incantations.

The shell of our nights broken by mental possessions in front of which any other type of possession becomes superfluous. 

I remember you holding in the air an unopen bottle of wine. Then, head on my knees, you cried. 

Your tears trickled from my legs on the floor. The bed grew aromatic roots.

The promise of us, with its infinite ambiguity, spread through our bodies. 

The city, like a gigantic swan, deserted its breeding nest.

It left us to the mercy of an inexplicable love. 

Oh, yes, my love.

Oh, yes.

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My poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings is available on Amazon here .
Passions featured in San Francisco Book Review
Passions featured in Manhattan Book Review.

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@Gabriela Marie Milton

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Will you vote for me? My poem – If I say I love you – is in the running for Publication of the Year at Spillwords Press (NYC)

My Dear Readers,

I was not going to post today. However, I am humbled beyond words that my poem, If I say I love you, is in the running for 2020 Publication of the Year at Spillwords Press. To everyone who has supported me in my writing journey, my deepest thanks. May your days be filled with love and success. May you be inspired and may life shower you with happiness.

The voting for Spillwords Press annual awards is now open. Congratulations to all nominees. All of them are wonderful writers. They deserve plenty of recognition.

My poem, If I say I love you by Gabriela M, is under the rubric Publication of the Year (Poetic).

If you do not have a Spillwords account, you can vote with your FB or Twitter account. When you click on the poem, a Spillwords window will open. You will be asked to enter your username and your password. Ignore that and click on the FB or Twitter icon to vote.

Update: One of my followers pointed out that there is actually a WP voting option too. You can click on the WP icon, instead of FB or Twitter, and vote with WP if you prefer.

Here is the link where you can vote. Voting is open till January 30.

Last February I was awarded Author of the Year at Spillwords Press. I told my followers one thing that will always be true: my award is as much yours as it is mine.

If you wish to read my 2019 Author of the Year Spillwords interview you can read it here.

If you wish to (re)read my poem, If I say I love you, can do it here.

Love to everyone


@Gabriela Marie Milton

Mistrust #igpoetry #short prose #flash fiction

My poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings is available on Amazon here .
Passions featured in San Francisco Book Review
Passions featured in Manhattan Book Review.

@Gabriela Marie Milton