Posts Tagged With: woman

Sentimental scenario


at first the woman sits in the man’s hand when he’s resting
if he goes to work he leaves her in a dimple on the bed sheets
she yeasts like dough
she raises
and picks all flowers all apples all grains
he comes back and sees the disaster
powerless
he sees into her belly through the tips of his fingers
she sweeps and cleans afterwards
the patch of earth they sit upon together

the man and his woman
untie the comets’ tails with their hands united
they’re a supercontinent for a moment
if they break apart unnamed oceans and archipelagos emerge
under the front of his head the front of her head and so on

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Categories: My Poems in 2014 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

elegy 01


it is mid summer I stumble like a woman
in which people have never seen the woman
ecce mulier
the summer sky opened up
there will be no more earthquakes or wars
it is nice lukewarm and easy going
things don’t tumble altogether towards the center of the earth
neither the lovers’ eyes nor the jealousy that haunts them
because they are happy
nor the love for your neighbor because it is envied

*
sing a song you fiddler man
for the girl from the white little house
here where I am allowed to be myself
the others are not sincere when a lonely woman
lives as if in a train compartment
rises and falls together with the moon
(I could have caught it in my bread basket
to cut a slice of it but I am not craving)
I am too simple without secrets
my whole life I got older in a stays ball dress
singing to myself from the window
praying to my angel to make me stronger

*
how many wishes can I pretend to possess
when I have never wished something for real
it was always something more important more painful
closer to me the one without beginning or end
something that could have been
you are my brother you are my sister
I am the one who draws the gate’s bolt
even if the garden is deserted
things must stay in their place laws must be respected
fences have to stand up

*
I shall buy lottery tickets to win at least a hope
if my astrological sign is lucky
if there were enough comets going around
trying not to die like a soldier
I am neither man nor gardener to plough for the seed of my dreams
nor monk to sing halleluiah
ecce mulier my lord
the pain is stronger on my waist
on the upper and lower halves I already froze
enough for you to pass over on foot without breaking me

*
I went astray in another world
I will never be at home I will never part completely
I’m a shadow’s bride but whose I don’t know

Categories: My Poems in 2014 | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

The white butterfly


the wax doll mirrored herself in a puddle
she felt a scent of moist earth
upon her barren belly trees were blossoming
full of wild bees

after the magician’s performance she raised on tiptoes
dancing with her arms over her head
for life and for death
she kept the moonrise in the palms of her hands
and the song like a dagger between her teeth
she melted gradually
through her naked breast through her naked body
other swords passing
colder and colder
bloody icicles growing in her heart

the real woman lay down in the grass
with a white butterfly sleeping on her pubis
like a sailboat over the sea
she did not know
how much she resembled her wax replica
same little mermaid dancing all night long
piano fortepiano
al fine

Categories: My Poems in 2014 | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

the lemon in the egg saucer


the small woman from the attic sits cross-legged
with her pink plastic hair rollers for hours. her
life spins like the spool of thread on the sewing
machine. she sleeps wearing a flowery morning
gown in the room with a flowery wallpaper and
a secondhand carpet imitating autumn grass. she
boils her lime tree tea and dairy free pasta on the
electric boiling ring. she washes her hair with nettle
essence shampoo. once a month she goes to the
central store to see new dress designs then she reads
at midnight group portrait with lady. in a sideboard
she hides a pair of perfumed lace gloves the color of
the skin. she wears them when the spring wind blows.
on a shelf in the kitchen a grated lemon in an egg
saucer is slowly getting dry.

Categories: My Poems in 2014 | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

imperfect (self)portrait


maybe the years are to blame
the age when withered women keep telling her
she is still young

she has a kitchen and a pantry stuffed with spices
a wardrobe with lavender and soap between bed sheets
even a manicure case for rainy days
in her house the flowers she received as a gift
lose their perfume in about an hour

loneliness nibbles with sharp teeth
pain strikes her head at once
like a rake upon which she stepped by mistake
but she can’t cry out
she stays upright with the front touching the wall counting

how many times she got drunk from bubble dreams
like champagne kept cold under a powerful cork
how many nightmares passed by like quicksilver
in the nights with hidden stars
enclosed afterwards in thermometers
kept in her bosom when she was feverish

she’s counting how many times the present
barks or bites like an old pug
with its tongue out
she travels her fingers upon past prints
covered with a pink watercolor film
she thinks about the future as if it were a collection
of tasteless candies pulling out teeth

she is the lady with a soft colored umbrella in summer
and a raven black one at funerals

Categories: My Poems in 2012 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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