This week, I received an e-mail from a concerned writer requesting verification of my continued existence. Indeed I write, therefore I live. It may seem I don’t get around much anymore, but I am still active in the writing community. I do read many of your works you’ve posted on blogs and/or provided links for, but I haven’t been able to consistently leave feedback. Alas, a positional change at my place of employment has left a significant strain.
Somehow I’ve managed to complete several pieces of poetry. I share one with you.
The moon breaks like a mirror.
The Blackberry Lady flashes her teeth
and a sundial turns its nose up toward the sky.
It is an art of light to cut yourself in two.
She is oil and vulnerable,
paint on the nails of canvas, parchment.
Her crimson dress is torn at the hem,
Cimmerian legs push through as stalactites.
I perch below the cavern of her expression.
She smiles like a river dries,
slips off bittersweet sandals.
Toes wiggle frantic as earthworms.
This is the Blackberry Lady, the bramble of youth.
I take her by her narrow waist and squeeze.
She drinks the sun from a muddy skull,
points a finger in my direction.
It is not love, but I crave this dark fruit.
She offers me a rose to knead.
Thorns are nipples on her breasts.
Our blouse stains with indignation.
The moon breaks like a mirror.
I catch our reflection in a shard of glass.
Her eyes drip sugar without the aid of light,
yet fail to sweeten mine.
Copyright 2010, Angel Zapata, all rights reserved.
Wow. Very nice poem Angel. Nice to see you are alive and writing. Keep up the great work.ReplyDelete
I knew you were good, but not THAT good! DANG, Angel! That was surreal, sexy, dark, and emotive...you need to get this one published.ReplyDelete
"a sundial turns its nose up toward the sky.ReplyDelete
It is an art of light to cut yourself in two."
Your gift for imagery is inspiring Angel. Great to see new stuff from you.
Good luck at work too - I know exactly how it is to have things "re-structured". (Translation - here's more to do. Get going.)
beautiful piece, loved the vegetal imagery throughoutReplyDelete
Glad to see you're alive, Angel and haven't lost your spark or verve.ReplyDelete
As for keeping up on blogs, I use Google reader. It's awesome. It takes a few minutes to get all the blogs you wanna subscribe to squared, but once there, reading all the blogs is a cinch. That's how I knew you were back. Check it out...
Relieved to learn you're alive, good sir.ReplyDelete
Blackberry Lady certainly verifies your continued existence, although, I'm not convinced which plane of existence you are... existing in. ;pReplyDelete
Reading your and Erin's poetry on the same night is dangerous. I'm glad it's not a full moon, I might be tempted to howl.
The seduction, abandon, & regret in this piece is stunning, visual, and emotionally riveting.
Always good to see you around Angel, would like to see more of the Rage, that's all!! Poetic as ever.ReplyDelete
Awesome...and I'm so glad to see you're still alive!ReplyDelete
Good to see you again, Angel.ReplyDelete
Awesome as ever!!
The undercurrents in this piece enrapture, with reflections of ourselves, the truth in desire, and the cuts we are willing to endure in order to find those gems in the dark of the cave.ReplyDelete
Sensual and ravage—the rage of an angel.
Yeah, that pen is warm:)
Cool sounds Angel - great to know you're still around.ReplyDelete
Thanks for sharing this, Angel, I'm glad you found time to do so. Best of luck with your work situation.ReplyDelete
Yeah, I do find breathing greatly improves the entire writing process. Thank you guys for stopping by. Now quit holding your breaths and pen that novel already.ReplyDelete
Ouch, thorny nips. I hate those!ReplyDelete
this is dark disturbing and surreal, excellentReplyDelete
Efforts to fight fuel!........................................................ReplyDelete
Sorry did you say you were unpaid writer... Why?!!!ReplyDelete
That's amazing writing! there must be someone out there who thinks you are worth paying lots for wonderful words of yours.
My very best wishes for your future, my dear friend and fellow writer.