Sunday, October 2

The Candle


Fragrance of
Dust and Paris and his
Cologne masculin,
Mostly of
The cologne, fresh muskiness
More than four years.
I never touched it, and told my visitors it was
   ‘juste une chandelle’
From a relative, not useful anymore
But when I sit alone
Attempting to write stuttering chips of poetry
On yellowed paper
It starts to haunt me, subtly, as I can never get it
Out of the corner of
My eye, and memories sing from its
Thin rope until I am all
Tears and regret.
He is making a
Living in America,
Land of Gold, so I wonder if he remembers
That one cloudy afternoon
When he chased me into
A pebbled street near the
Eiffel tower, when he
Handed me the waxy farewell gift --    

Tuesday, September 20

Ode To Lemons by Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda is one of my favorite poets so far. I have just read 3 of his odes. Here is my favorite.
From blossoms
released
by the moonlight,
from an
aroma of exasperated
love,
steeped in fragrance,
yellowness
drifted from the lemon tree,
and from its plantarium
lemons descended to the earth.

Tender yield!
The coasts,
the markets glowed
with light, with
unrefined gold;
we opened
two halves
of a miracle,
congealed acid
trickled
from the hemispheres
of a star,
the most intense liqueur
of nature,
unique, vivid,
concentrated,
born of the cool, fresh
lemon,
of its fragrant house,
its acid, secret symmetry.

Knives
sliced a small
cathedral
in the lemon,
the concealed apse, opened,
revealed acid stained glass,
drops
oozed topaz,
altars,
cool architecture.

So, when you hold
the hemisphere
of a cut lemon
above your plate,
you spill
a universe of gold,
a
yellow goblet
of miracles,
a fragrant nipple
of the earth's breast,
a ray of light that was made fruit,
the minute fire of a planet.

Monday, September 12

Falling Asleep

gray misty haze
of dried chamomile leaves

seep

into my dreams and
drives away the

monsters.

Saturday, September 3

Simple Love Poem

I like writing poems on Sundays
About gray life in the city
I like dreaming universes on Tuesdays
About horse rides in the forests
One day I woke up
Thinking fervently about you
And realized with jump
There's nothing else I would do.