Cruel Sunsets by Gabriela Marie Milton #poem #poetry #short prose

 Anna Ismagilova; Shutterstock

Cruel Sunsets by Gabriela Marie Milton

Summer sunsets with their cruel debaucheries of orange and purple. Concentrated scents of saffron and roses in the hallways. Dates filled with marzipan.  I crave sweetness like I crave you.

Nightmares. A sailor drowned a cat at sea. Someone paid him to do it.

I cannot breathe anymore.  

Last night in one of the upstairs bedrooms the child’s toys changed places. A candle lit by itself.

I do not wish you were here. I am beyond that. My blood flows in the opposite direction. I am the plenitude of my febrilities. I am incandescent.

Remember that scene from Jane Eyre? Bertha: beautiful, exotic, insane, locked in a room. Bertha whom Rochester married in Jamaica. Every time he tried to open the door she would rush to tear him apart. Why am I thinking Bertha?

I can see you walking in the streets of another continent. I can hear your murmurs by the sea.

I still cannot breathe.

My darling, “will you still be loving me when the summer is gone?” 

MasticadoresUSA Update

There are several new poems up at MasticadoresUSA. Please visit the site here and support your fellow poets. Do not forget to follow the site.

Thank you.

Have a beautiful summer everyone.

@Gabriela Marie Milton

My piece Who Am I? Featured in Shabd Aaweg- A Quarterly Review of Literary Fiction, Politics and Philosophy #literature

 Subbotina Anna: Shutterstock

I am thrilled to have my piece Who Am I? published by Shabd Aaweg – A Quarterly Review of Literary Fiction, Politics, and Philosophy, Issue VIII

Here are some teasers:

“…floats above the water as innocent as the breast of a young girl… Soon the sun will try to catch her naked and burn her skin … Pigeons will carry her across…

… I can see no relationship between my destiny and that which I do. I am …

At noon, the sun kneads the waters with rapture … the movement of the water on my skin. Its cyclical quality sends me in a state of ecstasy. No, it is not the ecstasy of Saint Teresa of Ávila. It is something similar to a soporific trance. I am dead and I am alive at the same time. I come from the sea. I return to the sea.

In the afternoon, my rational self awakes… I get preoccupied with verbs. I set one triangle in the normal position and I invert the other one. I bind them together…..  You are the goddess of vines, the mother earth, the chalice, the blood, the fertility of the womb. I mull over these desperate….

..I feed my iguana with cookies soaked in champagne… One kiss and you borrow my tears. One touch and I borrow your pain. A passage rite. I keep a coffin adorned with lilies in my bedroom. I sleep besides death like Sarah Bernhardt. Did you hear that noise? A rosary…”

Please read the entire piece here.

Thank you.

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

@Gabriela Marie Milton

Bewitched #poem #poetry collection

 ch123; Shutterstock

Included in my poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings.

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
black taffeta chirps between my fingers like piano keys
inside my soul your kisses soar
soft lilac tones like prayers of the youngest nun
perhaps because I read your poetry last night
and cut my soul between a stanza and a strife
perhaps a child played with a kite
a kingdom for a sup
maybe it was the wind
that woke me up

Passions featured in San Francisco Book Review
Passions featured in Manhattan Book Review.

Amor, Amore, Mon Amour – A Poem From My Poetry Collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings

 Liliya Kulianionak; Shutterstock
amor, amore, mon amouramor, amore, mon amour
love strikes like the Mistral in Saint-Tropez
winds, hallucinations of pianos,
decide to howl in D major
enigmas move inside the wombs
incubations murmur under the phases of the moon
bewitched, allegories of love raise odes to exasperated nudes
a prophet gazes at a virgin sybil
whose liquid eyes foretold our love in gold
reflections, lava of our souls,
a mirror hangs itself onto the wall in the red room
a phoenix rises
our bodies drown
into the liquid time of the Mediterranean
amor, amore, mon amour
the splendid flesh of a gestating poem
washes our singular and frenzied souls
amore colpisce come il maestrale
nei venti di Saint-Tropez, allucinazioni di pianoforti
decidono di ululare in re,
enigmi maggiori muovono dentro l’intimo:
mormorio, incubazioni sotto le fasi della luna
stregate allegorie d’amore sollevano ondine a nudi esasperati
un profeta guarda una vergine sibilla
i cui occhi liquidi predissero il nostro amore
nei riflessi dorati, lava delle nostre anime,
uno specchio appeso al muro nella stanza rossa
una fenice solleva
i nostri corpi affogati
nel tempo liquido del mediterraneo
amor, amore, mon amour 
la splendida carne di un poema in gestazione
lava le nostre anime singolari e frenetiche

Italian translation by Flavio Almerighi.

Passions featured in San Francisco Book Review
Passions featured in Manhattan Book Review.

@Gabriela Marie Milton

The Ides of October #poem #poetry #poetry collection

 

I paid for all the happiness that was bestowed upon us by the Ides of October.
I used to feel the presence of the child all around me.
A woman said I should pick a piece of slough cast by a snake and wear it against my skin.
I did it.
Flushed as a young peach every sunset became a resurrection.
Roses wrapped around my waist and later in June the child was born.

 

A new October sets our pictures on the Spanish chest.
Emotions animate your cheeks.
Every night above the trees the moon nurses the stars.
When I see cocoons of the larvae, I think silk as soft as the hair of the child.
When I say I love you, I think death as the harbinger of birth.
Your lips tremble and your voice flattens.
I know you love me.
With nude fingers the Ides of October betroth us again.

[Ides as the 15th day in March, May, July, and October according to the Roman calendar]

 

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.

image:  Maria Okolnichnikova; Shutterstock; [link]

@Gabriela Marie Milton

lilies of the valley #poem #prose poem #short prose #poetry collection

I can see the woman who assumes things. Every night she picks the flowers that I throw on the road: withered lilies of the valley. She wants to be me. She wants my blood. She does not know I rearranged the bell-shaped whites so no one else can breathe their sweet scents. No one else can be me. No one else can make you, you.

The woman puts the withered flowers in her bag.

A new moon rises over her left shoulder. Bad luck.

I shiver.

I rush to protect her.

I stumble.

Before he died my father said:

If you try to do justice to the wicked, you will forget to do justice to the virtuous. And if you forget to do justice to the virtuous you only work for yourself. That is the biggest sin of all.

I have to think again.

 

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.
image: Sandratsky Dmitriy; Shutterstock; [link]

@Gabriela Marie Milton

Professions #poem #poetry #love poem #poetic prose #poetry collection

Motto
I get drunk on love, charity, and passion. These are my professions.

*

I walk into the three days we spent together.

On the first day, a nude silence wraps around my lips. Shortly after I can hear the noise of wine poured into glasses.
The hour to get drunk on love has come.
I touch your skin and another you is born.
Birds invade the sky.
A banquet of candles floods the streets.
A white thread ties my blood vessels at the exact moment when a religious procession walks by.

 

On the second day, drunk on charity, my sights descend upon the earth.
The dirty hands of the woman who owns wells touch my skin.
I hear your voice.
I will not counsel her or belittle her desires.
All she will do is sell her fake dreams in the corner of an empty street for her entire life.
I forbid you.
By punishing her you would have ruined the very thing you set out to safeguard: our love.

 

On the third day, stars melt in our palms like soft grapes in winepresses.
The intimations of you and I, with their smell and softness of grass and late autumn roses, invade the room.
A convulsive joy impregnates your eyes.
Words have no pigments and no form. Their register sinks in gravity, shiny coil by shiny coil, musical key by musical key, sleepy touch by sleepy touch.
The perfection of the afternoon’s poplars blesses the air.
Possessed by passions, under the wing of a bird, we died three days ago.

 

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.
image: Sandratsky Dmitriy; Shutterstock; [link]

@Gabriela Marie Milton

A poem from my book Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings and a review #poem #poetry collection

The forgetfulness of summer, a poem from my poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings [available on Amazon here]

On my left mountains of passion lost in lunar light.
On my right poetry.
An African violet beats her eyelashes.
Spanish moss lingers on the waters of the Bayou.
The smell of fresh cocoa penetrates my nostrils.
Old wounds crawl on my skin; columns of ants searching for honeydew on a tropical tree.
The forgetfulness of summer.
The silence of a blue lagoon.
You.

and another review of my book posted on an online forum on May 17th.

Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings was one of the most beautiful and well written collection of poems I have ever read. Each word was so perfect and beautiful, and the prose were wonderful. With each installment of the prose it added puzzle pieces to a stunning love story with what looks to be a dramatic love triangle between friends….
Please read the entire review here

@Gabriela Marie Milton

image: Liliya Kulianionak; Shuterstock; [link]

Passions: a New Poem Entitled Son of the Desert, and a Thank You #poetry #book collection

Son of the Desert

oh, let the summer come and go
wrapped into my dreams
coiling on your pillow
son of the desert
you look like the founder of gods
eyes hunt the cracks of pyramids
sands nest in your folded lips
under your sight
my breasts blossom
voices of the children of the moon
cupped palms filled with tears
son of the desert
tonight
I play my notes
close to your skin

And…

My deepest thanks to Timothy for the wonderful review of my book: Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings [available on Amazon here]. Timothy is beyond talented. Please visit his site to find gorgeous and professional videos clips, pictures, beautiful poetry and songs.
Are you an animal lover? Look no further. Visit Timothy’s site.

On a different note, Timothy is very generous. I was gifted a tree on Timothy’s property along side the Rio Grande. Actually there are several women on WP who have trees on Timothy’s propriety. I am just one of them.

Here is an excerpt from Timothy’s review. You can read the entire review on Amazon.

Thank you.
Love
Gabriela

\

@Gabriela Marie Milton

image: Anna Ismagilova; Shutterstock; [link]

My book – Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings – was published #poetry book #poems #poem

My book – Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings – was published.

Thank you to all my followers who’ve supported me. I wish I could make the sky rain blessings on all of you. I wish I could heal all wounds with my words. I wish I could send you a rose hidden in whispers of love every day.
I will try. I will never give up. You’ve showed me love. I’ll return your love. Every day I’ll try to give you more than I take. That’s my promise to you.
Yours
Gabriela

Shiver (a poem from my book)

A full moon weeps cold fragrant oil on my face.
Shiver.
The cicadas’ song penetrates the membranes of the space.
On one of my arms a purple mark sighs and then falls asleep.
Looking for prey a snake’s tongue splits the time in two.
I feel the bite.
You.

Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings contains new poems, poems published in various venues, and a few excerpts from my manuscript “Glass Lovers.”

Click Here to View Publisher’s Announcement

@Gabriela Marie Milton