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.

*

@Gabriela Marie Milton

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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.

Bloom #poem #poetry

 Suwan Wanawattanawong; Shutterstock

you cut a piece of my hair
it curls between your index finger and your thumb
in the distance
silhouetted against the snow
knotted kerchiefs
the dress of a woman who insinuates herself on people’s skin like mold on walls
in the little house hidden by oak trees
in the unmade bed where every night you sleep alone
I listen to the mineral eyes of a saint
while between your palms
the Little Prince plays with white plumes
signs that birds exist
the winter buries us deep in the ground
dissolved
our bodies gestate until the birth of spring
when on the top of an unspoken hill
you and I will bloom
into two trees whose fruit will feed the children of the world

Happy Holidays to all my followers. May your 2021 be fabulous.
Love
Gabriela

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

@Gabriela Marie Milton

Sweetness #prose poem #poetry #short prose

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is shutterstock_603319382-300x200.jpg
IrenaStar; Shutterstock

Scents of linden trees illuminated by an old oil lamp.
The night is me.
I am the night where love delights dwell.
Shed you skin and come with me where minutes melt like chocolate on the tongue of a child.
You, sweetness from beyond the body, what can one say about you?

=

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

Thank you.
Gabriela

@Gabriela Marie Milton

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

My Poem Moonlight Love Included in Words Of Power: A Poetry Anthology #poem #poetry #antology

 Liliya Kulianionak; Shutterstock

Thank you to Kevin Watt for including my poem Moonlight Love in his new anthology Words of Power.

Here is my poem:

Bones, blood, flesh trapped in a brilliant moonlight.
The sand of the shore carried faraway by translucent tongues of water.
Around me the mint grows taller than the trees; lassitude turning from gold to red.
Eyes become the locus where the desert and the sea meet.
Imprinted on my body the number twelve; the twelve horses of the sun-chariot.
He, the seller of time, looks at me.
His voice penetrates the membranes of my cells.
One hour of impossible love for two dimes.
I, who can foresee the future, buy.
The hour wraps around my hips like a passion vine around a tree.
For a second you, the lover of the visible world, hesitate.
Streets inundated by the sweet smell of citrus.
Arms hugging a void.
You cannot eat that citrus and you cannot touch me.
Moonlight love, remind me, why did I buy you?

Words of Power is available on Amazon here.

My book, Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings, can be ordered here.

Thank you.
Love
Gabriela

@Gabriela Marie Milton

My Piece Professions Published by Vita Brevis Poetry Magazine #poem #poetry #poetry collection

 Irina Sergeyeva; Shutterstock\

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…
Please continue reading WP here

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.

Thank you!
Love.
Gabriela

@Gabriela Marie Milton

My Poem The Ides of October Translated in Italian by Flavio Almerighi #poem #poetry

 Maria Okolnichnikova; Sutterstock

Thank you to Flavio Almerighi for the beautiful Italian translation of my poem The Ides of October.
Grazie di core, Flavio.


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]

Italian Version

Ho pagato per tutta la felicità che ci è stata concessa dalle Idi di ottobre.
Sentivo la presenza del bambino tutto intorno a me.
Una donna ha detto che avrei dovuto scegliere un pezzo di melma lanciato da un serpente e indossarlo sulla pelle.
L’ho fatto.
Arrossata come una giovane pesca, ogni tramonto diventava una risurrezione.
Le rose si avvolsero intorno alla mia vita e più tardi a giugno nacque il bambino.

Un nuovo ottobre pone le nostre foto sul petto spagnolo.
Le emozioni animano le tue guance.
Ogni notte sopra gli alberi la luna nutre le stelle.
Quando vedo i bozzoli delle larve, penso che la seta sia morbida come i capelli del bambino.
Quando dico che ti amo, penso che la morte sia il presagio della nascita.
Le tue labbra tremano e la tua voce si appiattisce.
Io so che mi ami.
Con le dita nude le Idi di ottobre ci fidanzano di nuovo.

[Idi come il 15 ° giorno di marzo, maggio, luglio e ottobre secondo il calendario romano]

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.

Thank you!
Love.
Gabriela

@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