Andalusian Resurrection #poem #poetry

In Spain, the dead are more alive than the dead of any other country in the world.
Federico García Lorca

open your veins Andalusia
let him drink from your lynx blood
inject the rhythms of the flamenco
under the coldness of his eyes
tattoo his flesh with tiles of azurite
pour the sounds of castanets
into his arms
my fingers swirl
the flesh of ripened olives
covers the old shroud
the flow of blood from the white shirt
has stopped
I hear his voice
there is one cross
and you’re my only love
my body arches
oils flame in my hair
a Moorish verse falls from a wall
his eyes are aiming
cries
the desperation
of the dancers dressed in red

Andalusia
I kneel among your cacti fed by salt
your wounded lashes
resurrected him
for yet
another night

@short-prose-fiction

image: Fernando Cortes; Shutterstock; [link]

you love me
like dolphins love to swim in warm and shallow waters
luscious humid silhouettes of the aquatic world
your fingers touch my skin
like priests in darkness the new testament
solemnly touch

you love me
says the royal palm tree in the garden
which every morning waves to me
I lost my golden earrings and I found them
among the crushed carnations spread on our bed
the night in which Mendoza wine fermented our destinies
into its scent

you know
I’ve never understood why you love me
the Howard Miller mahogany grandfather’s clock has stopped
somewhere it’s winter on the mappemonde
lost paradises hide in silver bracelets
why did you come?
and if you came
why did you leave?

@short-prose-fiction

my eyes are water wells
mirroring your body
into a time which shrinks
my lips shine on stained glass
windows to the sea
a virgin violin
faints into your lap
sick with jealousy
the summer hangs in trees
seduction
fantasy

@short-prose-fiction

image: PinkCat/Shutterstock

summer
winds play on my sheer dress
rhythms of the sirtakis dance
petals of white roses float over the bluest sea
lassitude spreads rosy fever
among the sailors on the ships
inside the blue tavern
in the port
we eat keftedes
and drink coffee boiled into a copper briki
feathers of white drapes cover my body
a yellow melon bursts in seven pieces
oh, its sweet pudicity
its enigmatic jealousy!
your hungry hands encircled on my hips
the bluish purple of an hyacinth
whispers words of night in Greek
and by the “condo of the virgin”*
we loved each other feverishly
for an entire week

*reference to the Parthenon, temple dedicated to Athena who was a virgin goddess
@short-prose-fiction

image: Riekus; Shutterstock. [link]

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]

before you leave
do not forget to take with you
our rhymes of love
flip flopping fish on foyers’ marble
the velvety récamier red sofa
on which the two of us inscribed
the decadence of our southern afternoons
the crystal glasses
now obliterated by the taste of the old wine
the plumage of dipper birds
submerged under the waters by our ardent nights
the blue imprints of fingers on the walls
oh, the withered roses?
you can have them
and with them
our entire past

@short-prose-fiction

Dear Readers,

I am thrilled my poem “Adam’s sin” was published by Spillwords Press.
Thank you so much for your support. Good wishes and hugs to everyone.

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….

continue reading here

@short-prose-fiction

i play the cello in the old streets
walls open wounds inflicted long ago
imaginary lovers contort in the air
and on my bow the grief of others
settles

i swallow tears and i play
the pain of those who cannot walk the streets
immersed in ecstasy and solitude
with all my sufferings
the walls i greet
till you’ll come out
and you’ll throw
a petty dime
right at my feet

@short-prose-fiction

My Dear Readers,

Thank you for your appreciation, support, and the love you showed me in 2018. They meant the world to me.
I wish you a wonderful and blessed New Year! May you be happy and “may you stay forever young”!
I will see you in 2019!

Until then here is my most viewed 2018 poem:

marry me!

when clocks announce mid-night
and lovers fall into a mystic scented sleep
run with me and let’s get married
in the blue forest of my dreams
let’s walk barefoot in the middle of the glen
look, frantic butterflies entangle in my hair
whispering fresh daisies drape my body
green leaves dress quietly your naked shoulders
the moon sets our altar among trees
crickets sing the symphony of love
like church choirs in the dusk
steel a star and set it on my finger
on the cobweb of yellowish moon rays
tree sap seals our union forever
your soul starts flowing into mine
let’s not move until the morning
when we will witness our bodies
merging into a fascinating cosmic tree
marry me!

@short-prose-fiction

image: ArtMari/Shutterstock

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

image: hitdelight/shutterstock

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