My poem “come back to me” published in America’s Emerging Poets 2018 Southeast Region (Z Publishing House, December 13, 2018)

Featured

I am delighted that my poem “come back to me” was included in the anthology: America’s Emerging Poets 2018 Southeast Region (Z Publishing House, December 13, 2018).

The anthology is available on Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/Americas-Emerging-Poets-2018-Southeast/dp/1791568017/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1544728977&sr=8-2&keywords=america%27s+emerging+poets+2018

The publishing house contacted me and asked me to submit my poetry.

Thanks to each and one of you for your support. Your likes and comments made the discovery of my poems possible.

Here is a short excerpt from “come back to me”

“for you i’ll stop the ebb and flow
i’ll make the sun to set on eastern temples
i will transform my body in a flame
in moonless nights like shooting stars
your hidden passions … 

we’ll wait in silence for the skies to open
the waves will build an altar on the ocean
gold fish will crown my head like precious diamonds…” 

@short-prose-fiction

 

Adam’s sin #poem #poetry

Featured

a canary sings
nuptial interludes
your flesh pays its tribute to some other lovers
transitory birds
come and go like seasons
noisy V-shaped flocks
i sigh
then i listen to a monk who reads
from a book of psalms
rings sleep on my fingers
arabesque designs shiver on my skin
pastel sunsets whisper in the winter’s sheen

 

i walk through your dreams
soaked in poetry, baptized by your verses
your heart adorns my chest
(work of ancient minters)
your lips burn my rings, and with them my fingers
agonizing wings toll bells in the air
i go for your veins, my hands rip your shirt
everything’s a dream
at the edge of silence
mirrors sleep and grin

 

you’re forever mine!
do you think i joke?
wait!
here’s the silver coin which can get you off

 

ah,
that’s what i thought
you would never take it
in the lovers’ bed monasticism’s asleep
a cat purrs on my thigh
your eyes become my eyes
my skin tastes like sweet pie
see, why Adam was so keen to sin?
for hidden in deep waters
You is always I
even in a dream

 

@short-prose-fiction

 

all is left of me #poetry #poem

Featured

swollen seas bite my wrists

upbraided winds haul in the room

black birds are eating from my soul

hands peel laces from my skin

i empty drawers looking for that day

what day?

there are no days

for days are nights

 

you know,

since you have left

my body’s buried under an old oak

there are no pictures on the walls

i lost the bedroom’s key

the bracelet from the silver market

is all is left

of me

 

@short-prose-fiction 

 

Dream #poem #poetry

Featured

“There are only as many realities as you care to imagine”

Lawrence Durrell, Balthazar

 

Covered by a sea of white lilies I lie in bed like felines lie in grass.

A cube of ice attempts in desperation not to melt inside an empty glass.

The night’s long fingers feverishly drop you on my left side.

Disoriented I turn and look at you.

Your hands get stuck in my hair like bunnies in a trap.

My silver icons sick with shyness cover their eyes.

*

Your touches wake me up

My nails aim at your shoulders

Soft vowels change the time

I start thrilling my Rs

Eros plays his dice

The planets change direction

There is no turning back

Our bodies feed on trees

Rivers stretch like cats

The air is drunk with roses

The stars are drops of blood

Exhalations of hot summers

Tie our bodies into a forever knot

*

You on my left side?

Is this a dream or what?

 

draft

@short-prose-fiction 

 

for you #short prose #flash fiction

Featured

Memories of a humid summer, dripping with love, when you finished your book.

In the night red wax trickles over a torn page that says, “for you- whose love fills my life with joy and makes all things possible.”

My arms ache.

I try to pull you back from a memory abyss filled with pain.

Can I still make all things possible?

The walls stay silent.

 

@short-prose-fiction 

 

i’ll give you what you’ve never had #poem #poetry

Featured

 

you

your tired feet have walked the desert

thorns and thistles scarred your skin

consumed by fires

enraged by liars

your nights of passions

felt like the apocalypse

 

enter my room

you bearer of the bleeding hearts

i’ll lock the door

and toss the key out of the window

come in my arms

i’ll read you poems written by Baudelaire

i’ll give you wine

made in Mendoza

adulterated prayers from the faraway Corinth

 

the walls are gray

the music plays

a reddish sunset lingers on my dress

and when my left leg steps back

into the rhythms of tango nuevo

i’ll give you what you’ve never had

the scream of the primordial ecstatic bite

and then the abolition of all sins

 

draft

@short-prose-fiction

 

trench warfare #poem #poetry

Featured

trench warfare

between your subconscious and mine

during the night

over my head

love words like cannonballs have flown

at the edge of some imaginary bed

sensuality has wept in B major

caged like a bird

i choked on metaphors

strategies of conquest

swam inside your mind

like koi fish in a pond

 

waters…

i drink and burst to light

roses crawl around my body

scented by eight aromatic salts

the pages of your book

sit empty now

white orchids hanging in a tree

don’t cry

your book is the last place

in which you want to look for me

 

draft

@short-prose-fiction

 

love spell (rewritten) #poem #poetry

Featured

 

i’ll mix a quarter of the moon

with scents of azaleas bloom

i’ll add a pound of your own heart

mix it with a tarot card

think nights of passion soaked in sin

redemption mornings bathed in gleam

imagine her melting the snow

playing with the cupid’s bow

her eyes are healing your heart’s pains

her kisses flowing through your veins

the southern cross adorns her chest

a bird is flying from her nest

 

why is your face turning so red?

oh, no,

(voices lament in a shell)

you’re not supposed to fall in love with me

mistakenly (or not)

i murmured the wrong spell

 

@short-prose-fiction

 

the gypsy girl #poem #poetry

Featured

there was a field of poppies

maybe a meadow of cherries

or maybe it happened right by the sea

mama was pregnant

thrills of house sparrows

rested on her heavy breasts

moons and stars around her waist

and nobody heard

what the gypsy girl said

her voice was soft

her lips

strawberry taste

winds playfully ruffled her shiny dress

and mama left

believing i would be born under the brightest star

i would conquer worlds from near and afar

yet the gypsy girl miscalculated by one grade

and fated me to love you till the end

 

@short-prose-fiction