Ladies & Gents.
Be genuine!
A dream of the sea.
You long to feel
tides drag you free,
the salt’s relentless
intimacy.
Adam O’Riordan, In the Flesh
You turn on the lamp and in its glow begin:
Cashmere, Touche Éclat, Kohl, Clinique,
a rose petal tincture dabbed onto your cheeks.
[…]
this room strained to reconstruct you
between the white walls of its memory.
Adam O’Riordan, In the Flesh
Greek ἐσχάρα (eschara), your ‘place of fire’, defines you:
that intimacy with the impulses that drew
you to burn for a love you could not name.
Adam O’Riordan, In the Flesh
Little scythes–
like a crescent moon,
the air opaque.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
It rained all night
on summer's
memories.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
Terrified screams
from the naked
earth
reach
you faint:
as the huge
whirling
wing
prolongs
your crucifixion.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
When suddenly
you spill
out of my dark
cascade
of blood—
red sail
I cut
through horrid
silences
to the crater
of light
betrothed.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
Deafening
abyss
devouring me.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
A cypress
drags bandages
from the mists
for hidden wounds:
silent it prays,
offering the new day—
to the sky.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
Heart
skimming over
tears—
blue lake
eyes agape—lashes
of wisteria.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
Sad
angels
in the twilight hour.
[...]
Tonight
arcane flora
will blood
in the chasms.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
... the edge — can't share
the abandoned soul
loose
from the silvery
arms
cascading.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
Heart
a trilling
skylark
weighing
the strains
of serenity.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
Soul's relentless
ascent
past sleep
past the black formless
stupor
of things—
nocturnal abandon.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
One
sunlit morning
amidst violets
in the pasture;
forgetting
night
the bite
of the ice.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
If my words could be
an offering
to someone
this page
would bear your name.
Antonia Pozzi, Breath: Poems & Letters
Oh regal heavenly Anna!
Anna Magnani, "L'Amore” (1948)
His face twisted, contorted by the hatred rising within him. He bit his fist to staunch the sobbing that, like a flood, felt as if it would drown him. He looked but could see and hear nothing. He didn’t weep with his eyes but with his soul.
Rezak Hukanović, Scar on the Stone: Contemporary Poetry from Bosnia
And love and misery here
Wear the same face.
Abdulah Sidran, Scar on the Stone: Contemporary Poetry from Bosnia