hidden #poem #poetry

hidden
inside the majesty of time
among the gestures of demoted lovers
winds are pushing boats to shore
letters written now by others
inside the folds of our time
the spleen of forests that are cut
child brides are crying terrified
skin is showing purple marks
a Stradivarius which was never made
plays the tunes of your own mind
hidden
inside the letters of your name
the dormancy of our love

@short-prose-fiction

image:  Sherbak_photo; Shutterstock; [link]

 

the breath of love and death #poem #poetry

emotions leave the wombs of souls 
inebriation
nakedness of pearls forgotten on the shore
inside the warmth of the unknown
the mystery of you is locked
somebody’s wearing yellow, sign of death
doors close
the ocean’s mortuary room
your hands stretch all the waves toward the North
my ankles stuck in sand

hibiscuses bloom in the bed
delusion 
a cat is running outdoors
over the world
the breath of love and death
a verse from you
and then
Pompeian red  

@short-prose-fiction

image: nodff; Shutterstock; [link]

 

ropes of destiny #poetry #poem

you’re looking at the vial
I’m looking at the dagger
neither of us
worthy of redemption

tale of the Verona lovers
the die is cast
vain efforts to escape each other end nowhere
love
erotic pollen
settles between us
it rips my heart apart
it makes your heart bit faster
ropes of destiny
tie us
forever

@short-prose-fiction

 

love in blue and black #poem #poetry #music

my love,
I speak to you through centuries of pain
trees spin barren branches in the air
when loneliness rains on blue hills
I crush my heart
so yours can still beat
listen
ocean waves embrace the moon’s pale chest
instead of tears
I shed naked pearls
to wash the effigy of your acoustic agony
and mend the painful scratches from your skin
with my imaginary fingers
in blue and black the time I bend
and no matter who I am
a human or a spirit
I swear to you
I’ll love you till the end.

@short-prose-fiction

music: Seance; Ankit Thapa

 

 

my poem “lovers without love” recited by Robert Taylor #poetry #vblog

My poem “lovers without love” recited by the exceptional Robert Taylor. I am honored.

you, quest of lovers without love
your unrelenting islands beaten by the wind-blown sand
the sea
extends its waves beyond the singularity of night
the silk of clouds is looking for the sky
scales of reeds chime songs,
cries of those whose loves have sunk

I bathe in the aromatic rose of the moonlight
the night bathes in the foam of the blue waters
a bed sighs
the silhouettes of three carnations gossip on the floor
alienation
empty hearts expecting to be slaughtered

the sand receives me
in the distance a mast decides to flicker
the quest of lovers without love
on a wicker chair
a lonely glove

@short-prose-fiction

 

fated cravings #poem #poetry

I was born under the salty light of underwater stars
when autumn leaves were burning
the neurotic passions of forgotten lovers
three fates surrounded my rosewood cradle
the Spinner threaded all my life from purple silk
her fingers soft  
her lips a nest of loving birds
the Allotter gave me the sensuality of painted nudes
the interruption of the sanctity of times when church bells toll
the Inevitable fated me with your aquatic soul
inside the smell of the fresh grass and dreams
I’ve learned to crave for your dark eyes
liked wisdom craves for ancient scrolls

@short-prose-fiction

 

Adam’s sin #poem #poetry #published

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

Published by Spillwords on January 22, 2019

@short-prose-fiction

image: PinkCat/Shutterstock