Your eyes are so dark. You stared with that sweet quite smile. Eyes interlocked. Felt unveiled. Why? _____Adriana Citlali XXIX-I-MMXXIII
Tag: poem
The tempo of a thousand kisses
Today’s theme is synesthesia. The inspiration of this haibun came from the fact that I started writing when my stereo played “A thousand kisses deep” by Leonard Cohen.
Cherry jam
Amelia feels desperate She is upset demotivated maybe sad out of focus a bit here a bit there Amelia is angry with the world because the sky is cloudy without shedding any snow the trees are leafless thin and mostly quiet (smart…
I will fall again
I fall under the influence of the blues beats and sounds this silence and that elusive sharp note I wait until you feel as I do until you observe rhythms in the moon until my hand is held by yours We dance at…
The refusal (PrimeNoPo version)
Today at dVerse we are combining mathematics and poetry, as it is done in the OULIPO form (Ouvroir de Litterature Potentielle) introduced in 1960 by French mathematician Francois de Lionnais and writer Raymond Queneau. The OULIPO is a playful form in which one takes an existing poem an exchanges each…
Real women don’t cry
I feel incomplete There is an empty space inside my skin a void containing all pain intangible without any light or colour I want to cry Be strong –an echo with mom’s voice Tears only bring troubles You shed them too often I try I…
The end of this summer
Amelia strolls the streets of a foggy forest full of memories to collect –or not … ordinary solitude sporadic apathy sun Amelia turns right on Spring St. unexpected connection exceptional passion anticipated deadline risk rush Amelia crosses Stability St. unknown territory distance fear Stop sign! confusion desire Amelia walks…
A fantasy sorta story: It is dangerous to walk a dream
The old man strolls the moon without any reason Sometimes he stops to wonder why he walks On occasion he forgets the pace and finds himself running in circles Some circles had been run often They are now deep and quiet He rarely strolls the imaginary…
Dimethyltryptamine: the utopian spiral
Eyelids rest to the sharp vision of my eyes You are there dressed in a black that turns purple DMT flows freely The firebird passes by A cloud of fine ashes surrounds us both you vanish leaving a floating tear (sad cheshire-cat’s grin) She falls…