forbidden fruits #poem #poetry

forbidden fruits
gestate on the trees’ branches
shades of green invade the veins of earth
between your dreams and mine a creaking door
temptation
adulterated wine
a naked breast

Breton’s mad love had no forbidden fruit
my love has you
the anarchy of flesh crawls in the alphabet
the repertoire of mornings’ unmade beds
a naked ocean
my bruised hands
strawberry red

My poetry book Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings: available for pre-order on April 14th; publication date April 20th.

Love and good health to everyone.
Gabriela

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

image:  Pagina; Shutterstock; [link]

 

between the sacred and profane #poem #poetry #amwriting

the laughter of the symbolists
morbid
disoriented cries of birds
I pantomime seduction just for you
a naked shoulder, flowers, glossy lips
the lace of stockings lower than it should
I rip the left side of your shirt
you devour me with silver spoons
our love, twin-bladed axe between the sacred and profane
stolen from the forehead of a legendary ox
the promise of tomorrow
the promise that we’ll meet
shadows of a painting signed Dali
both of us
children of the same insanity

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)
please read my Spillwords Author of the Year (2019) interview here 

image: Guryanov Andrey; Shutterstock; [link]

 

My poem “I wanted to love you” up at Free Verse Revolution #poetry

I wanted to love you

each word I write cries on the tunes of spring,
a spring that ends in graveyards and in dreams
the night I abandoned you on that bench and left
snows in my mind the syllable of hell
I wanted to return
I wanted to love you
I choked on ecstasies from vaguely bluish lands
that night I took a part of you with me
I cashed your soul and…

continue reading at Free Verse Revolution.

please read my Spillwords Author of the Year (2019) interview here 
@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

 

 

My poem “It’s March” published by KashmirPen Newspaper #poetry

My poem “It’s March” published by Kashmir Newspaper.
In this difficult time may God and the beauty of poetry protect us all.

Gabriela

 

 

it’s March and in the flower garden the time breaks into gigantic fire balls
moths rotate around the golden light like mustard seeds in the cool air
my hair grows long until it touches our naked ankles
I set the food on our wooden table
inside your eyes the spring sets scents of narcissuses and daisies
the valley blooms mauve tulips, eclipses of the heart,
by our mountain which is taller than the sky
love moves between your chest and mine
you kiss my cheeks
my hands tousle your hair
a smile from our non-existing past gazes at us
it smells naan and aromatic lamb
my dress is white, your shirt is dark,
I build from flowers our past until I cannot find its end
barefoot I stumble on old tears
are these the tears that you’ve cried?
an evil eye gets tangled in my hair
I hardly breathe
the evil eye now cuts my hair
in your arms,
you carry me on terraces made from your wildest fantasies
my dress is red, what happened to my dress?
your lips taste like mulberries,
mulberries from a tree which grew from the same root as my childhood
there is pain somewhere between the two of us
is this what we call our past?

it’s March and in the flower garden the time breaks into gigantic fire balls
moths rotate around the golden light like mustard seeds in the cool air
you say I love you
my dress is white
your kiss is forged in fire and black passion

it’s March
the March of our future and that of our past

Read more of my poetry in KashmirPen
marry me
spring floral certitude

My book Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings:
available for pre-order on March 30th.
publication date April 30th.

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

 

mystic wedding #poetry #poem

wedding

it’s our wedding
it’s midnight
waves wash our naked feet
your face is shaved
my hair smells almonds
your tears cover my veiled lips

songs of nightingales
new pearls are braided on my dress
borrowed lace adorns my hips
your grandmother’s cross
sparks on my white chest

look!
leaves rustle in a tree
the water turns to wine
moons rise from the sea
like at the mystic wedding
in Cana of Galilee

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)
please read my Spillwords Author of the Year (2019) interview here 

 

I am the one – included in my upcoming poetry book Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings

I am the voice of your past loves
resounding in your wildest fantasies
dressed in roses at the altar of your dreams
I am the one you’ve never had
my soul flows from the tears of the Nile
from the hands of children who still beg
through ruins, darkness, and deep pain
through wars which they will never understand
I am the last who will be saved
for I have sinned under the shadow of His cross
when Spanish fountains cry in the sunset
I am the Desdemona who you’ve never met
today Granada’s just the place
in which García Lorca once was killed
I am the feather of a gold macaw bird
and in the city where bells toll
I am the one whose cries you’ve never heard.

first published in STRAW #zine, London, October 2018
included in my upcoming poetry book Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings
please read my Spillwords Author of the Year (2019) interview here 

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

image: Anna Ismagilova; Shuterstock; [link]

 

Friday the thirteenth #poem #poetry

don’t wait for me
please find another lover
I’m riding camels with the Bedouins
I’ll enter Alexandria by morning
the day Mark Anthony committed suicide

don’t wait for me
please find another lover
I’m in the Île de la Cité on Friday the thirteenth
the Friday which forever will be feared
the smell of burning flesh is choking me
the Knights Templar are shedding tears

don’t write to me
until I’ll write to you again
lonely sunsets murmur in brown fumes
and in the night before His resurrection
like Mary Magdalene
I’m looking for a tomb

please read my Spillwords Author of the Year (2019) interview here 
@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

image: Liliya Kulianionak; Shutterstock; [link]

 

wooden bed (rewritten) #poem #poetry

I know some fields
in which the poppies smile
when blonde sunsets play classical guitar
I know the coffee shop in which you stop
the gypsy lady who foretold our luck

I love you
and I’m sorry that you fell in love with me…
now please listen,
I do have to go
remember our waterfall we liked so much
don’t sell the wooden bed in which we first made love
the dress embroidered by my mother’s hands
save the letters that my father wrote before he died
and do not cry

I’m rushing
guards are coming
my wrists will be soon stamped
yours forever,
from a concentration camp

 

please read my Spillwords Author of the Year (2019) interview here 
@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

 

My poem “the biblical sense of to know” published by Spillwords Press #poetry

the biblical sense of to know
born in a summer that never existed
nailed to the cross of your poems
I’m losing my mind inside the blue night
I reach you in dreams you do not understand
It hurts when I’m there….

Continue reading here

This poem first appear on this blog (slightly modified).

 

During my two and a half years of blogging I’ve been nominated for numerous blogging awards. My most sincere thanks to everyone who nominated me. My life is extremely hectic. I deeply apologize for not being able to reply to your nominations.
However, if you want to know more about me please read my Spillwords interview “Spotlight on Writers- Gabriela M

Here is an excerpt from the interview “…most fascinatingly America is a country of dreamers. We are all dreamers.”

Thank you!
Gabriela

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

image:  Anna Ismagilova; Sutterstock; [link]