I walk on paths Among the crowds of souls touring this world.
Blinded by dreams of you, I fell into the poets’ hell, Where the opacity of night is brighter than the light of day. Bathing in flames, I pound my fists against the wall of your indifference, Can’t you hear me?
Love cannot be tamed, My passion rules and I obey, Don’t let me live Into a world of heart break without time.
Forever hopeful, I knock, A thousand aching fissures have appeared on your glacier, I wait…. Swaddled in butterflies, For a rift to appear, And you to emerge…..
I recently meet a man, More masterful than Renoir and Matisse. He said hello one morning, And then proceeded coloring my world: He washed the city’s gray away, Painted my sky bluer, The stars bigger, like bits of magic strewn across heaven, White and black became red, purple and yellow, the colors of love.
He also played music, The strings of his guitar sounded like Jimmy Page, When he professed his love to me at home, And also on the stage.
It felt so good, I wanted this to last, To play my part in it at once, Was what I felt and it was I must!
I made my mission to spread my love all over him like confetti, To cook him his favorite dish, spaghetti, To bring him every morning a crunchy juice, Full of vitamins for his body to use.
We were blissful and everything was grand, Until one night when our blissful situation just got out of hand.
In wholly ingratiated state, My lovely man passed out face down on his plate, From drinking a bit more, And eating cold nachos from the day before.
Controlling my emotions, I tried hard not to swing, But then from the kitchen, his phone started to ring. I went to answer and found out, That my man had a woman lined up for a “workout”!
Flummoxed and weeping I searched my man’s inbox, And discovered that his true name was: Swiper da Fox! His list of “swipe” dating turned to be vast, It was the unedited truth about his present and his past!
My knuckles got all white, but with profonde composure, I confronted da fox and asked for full disclosure. With feathers in his mouth, the guy was still a cheat, He kept denying everything, unable to admit.
I then packed the fox’s clothes and told him that is over, I wished him a nice day and smiled at his hangover.
Note: my mission today was to make you smile. I hope you did by reading this poem : ).
I started the journey of seriously writing not so long ago, but I know I had it in me for a long time. In middle school I had literature professor that I will never forget. He never gave high marks and he will always get upset when we made grammatical mistakes. I was his favorite student. Back then, I did not understand why. I was so young and just a rebellious kid, in a communist country that did not encourage creativity and free thinking. At times, I got punished for voicing my mind. One a teacher put me in front of the blackboard and asked me to fill it with a communist slogan. I took the chalk and I wrote what he asked me. I had to write that slogan 53 times, while the whole class was watching. I was in 8th grade. But the literature teacher rewarded me with high marks, because he appreciated my writing, not infested with communist thinking and such.
This is just a parenthesis, to introduce a blog that was so gracious to feature one of my poems, a poem that you have seen here before and that is also part of my new poetry book. The reason I brought this story up is because the theme for this month for Free Verse Revolution is “After Life”. The first thing that comes in mind when we think about After Life is…..what happens after we die. But, there are so many different After Lives, aren’t they? One is the example above: my life after escaping communism. I have a novel coming up, it is written but I am knocking on agents and publishing houses’ doors. Another kind of After Life is you, me, us, after a significant relationship has ended. My poem is about that.
You can read it at Free Verse Revolution if you click here. If you are a poet, I encourage you to submit some of your poetry to this blog, as I think it is a wonderful way of sharing our work.
Crowded streets, Like narrow hiking trails full of wild and hopeful hearts, As mine.
I walk, Between tall buildings, Their walls are creaking with secrets, Of lives of yesterday and tomorrow.
Narcissist digital screens are showing perfect bodies, I stumble in front of one and smile, The pixels have formed into Aladdin’s lamp, Which promises to fulfill three wishes.
My fingers are tracing your imaginary silhouette, And I make three wishes: I wish that you will pack your bags, Book a flight, and think of the words you never said. I wish that you would come, Wrap your arms around me And silence all the ‘what ifs,’ and the ‘could bes.’ I wish that you would meet me in New York, my love.
I smile and leave, On crowded streets, Like narrow hiking trails full of wild and hopeful hearts, As mine.
Swimming, she used all her might to get to the surface, Fighting the currents of reason that sought to keep her in her world. Sure and unsure walked hand in hand on the beach where she surfaced, She stared them in the face, Took her first breath, and then the first step, And followed the voice that had long cuddled in her heart.
“Ariel,” the sand carried his whispers, From the place where he stud locked up in the man made prison. She whooshed through the sand and she found him, Trying to bend the bars that ruled his world.
“You are not allowed to love a mermaid,” said the chorus of ethnocentric voices, Singing decades old rules. He saw her, she saw him, And oblivious they reached for each other, Bending the bars under the heavy weight of their love.
Unafraid, they walked hand in hand by the wall of “virtue” where others were bowing, relenting their feelings to the man made rules. He picked a piece of charcoal and wrote “Love!” Not as a rule, but as guidance…..
They left, walking side by side. It wasn’t easy for her, She was just learning to walk into his world, But she had him….. And he had her…..
A poem that I have written had been published by Spillwords Press. Thank you for publishing my work!
The moon was riding in a cloudy heaven, Nature was not still and neither was he. He was just a little boy, by the window, Listening to the spirits of the trees.
The tales of the forest Whispered unwritten wisdom, About the first men and women that emerged from the caves To fan the flames of civilization, About a wanderers realm Where even broken-winged birds can fly….. About acorns that sprouted into flowers, About a little orphan child that asked a tall tree To lift up his paper gold wishes Up to the sky, to his parents.
No, their eyes didn’t meet from across the crowded room, No, he didn’t see her face on Skype Nor did she stalk his Instagram feed. They were not like other people…..
They needed not step into the role of “mirror”, And tell each other when they looked good or not, Because they always looked good to each other.
They said love is blind, But they knew that it wasn’t, They could see into each other’s souls, And past colors and shapes, Their spirits within were as bright as a day.
Thoughts, desires, and longings were not always written across their faces, But they were always written in their hearts. She asked him: “My love, what color is love?” He said: “Love has no color, love is a feeling, As the feeling of you next to me.”
Her soul was touched, She felt the sun on her face, Smelled his perfume… She thought that the strangest thing was That there are seven billion people on the planet looking for love, She hoped that they would find what she knew: That love always happens out of sight.
Hospital beds…. Doctors and nurses, Moving faster and harder than anytime before… I think the reminder of these days will always sting like a hornet.
For days your body quivered, As the underground bunker opened and closed its door around you, You were completely vulnerable, As all the other poor souls around you, But your parachute jerked your body back.
You’re dreaming of blue skies and white puffed clouds, Or maybe of the ocean shore where we sat every morning, You’re taking trips With your eyes closed, but with the gateway of your soul open.
I feel your heart getting warmer, Searching through the glass window, As closest as they have let me get to you…
My eyes are crying And my invisible hands are ripping out all the caution tape, All the “do not enter” signs That held us back from living the life we truly want to live.
Wake up my love, Life is precious, Especially the one that is given twice.
Life and how precious every moment is. Not many had life –altering experiences, but if you did, you understand best what second chances are. “Live your life to the fullest” is just a motto until you start doing it. So do it, you may never have tomorrow what you can have today. Love and live to the fullest.