Salvador's Gala Nude
Amid Teatre-Museu Dali,
A nude woman
Forests Abraham Lincoln's
Face, jungles
A bearded
Presidential smile.
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Head over Heels
Your eyes
Azure the sky,
Become an
Aquamarine liqueur
In a glass-bottom
Heaven my
Land-locked heart
Sips top-down. |
Lizard Sunset
The macrolobium trees
Uproot the water,
Wait for
The melting
Pink guava sun
To land on
Their upside down
Iguana claws,
Silhouetted reptile bones
In lagoon-softened skins. |
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Weeping Spirits Out of the Darkness
I enter
The cemetery
No tombstones badge.
Only plaques lie
Like dominoes
On a table
Of death.
I labyrinth
Between the pieces,
Looking for
The number
That calendars
My brother's grave.
A pack
Of hoarse
Winds howls
And outshines silence:
A lantern
Of voices
Overlights my tears,
Yet fellowships
A lone wolf
Of life, foster-mothers
An orphaned brother. |
Sambόdromo Play-by-Play
The sky above
The phantasmagoric parade
Unheavens an
Orgasm of fireworks.
A stiletto-heeled flagbearer
Performs a mating dance.
A kaleidoscopic blur
Of food-
And-beverage
Hues passes:
Saffron, melon, avocado,
Aubergine, and pistachio.
Skating-rink-like lights
Trapeze surrealistic floats:
An upside-down castle,
A casino
With women in
Roulette-wheel skirts,
A soccer game played
By dummies moving
On the heads
Of men
Who later team
With a sunrise
That takes
No sides. |
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Sewing Ocean
Footsteps make
An uneven stitch
Along the shore,
While the tide
Rolls up
Its sleeve,
Exposes bare-armed
Sandbars and
Goose bumps
Of coral. |
Mausoleum for a Deceased Love
The fog hoods
The Taj Mahal,
Leaves a face
Of sadness.
Marble weeps.
Beauty mourns. |
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Twenty-First-Century-Act-One Synopsis
Hurricanes and tsunamis
Attack coasts.
Muscles of
Earthquakes flex,
Bury cities alive.
Governments wage wars
To meet ends
Without grasping beginnings.
Terrorists turn
Buildings, subways,
And buses
Into bombs
They detonate
With remote beliefs.
Nature changes
Its pace
And stride,
Plays tame,
Rebels, takes revenge,
Concedes or surrenders.
Time and
Politics march. |
View of Geiranger
From the waterfront,
Liners muscle in
The fjord with
Stretch-limousine bodies
That dwindle
Into tugboats
Anchored in
A bathtub
Porcelain cliffs side
And glaciers lather. |
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The Icarus Couple
I want
To soar
With you
Towards the sun,
To warm ourselves
Far from this
War-cold world,
And slalom through
Tree-like rays,
Yet tread air
Long enough
To carve peace
On the bark
Of light. |
Petrified Music at The Hatshepsut Temple
A fan
Of rock
Backdrops the
Roman-Forumesque facade,
With porticos
That resemble
Terraces of
Flat harmonicas
Only the ancient
Egpytian mouth
Knows how
To sound. |
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Side-Stepping Waterside Towns
I board
A train, have
No destination,
Float between
A riverbank
Of rails, take
The day downstream,
Chug by sandbars
Where civilization thins. |
The Lattice-Windowed Palace of Winds
The poet-maharaja
Sawai Pratap Singh
Offered his courtesans
A facade
Of discretion and
A back wall
Of air
To peek
At city life
Behind wooden veils. |
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Tomb in an Alley
I wait for nature
To say a prayer
Instead of me
At my brother's grave,
But trees loiter
In a corner
Of autumn,
Shuffle leaves
Back and forth,
Keep hands
Of branches
In their pockets. |
Renaissance Men
Dali's Sistine-Chapel version
Replaces Michelangelo's
With a ceiling
Life and death
Frival on.
The painter ascends
With oversized feet
That sole
A trivial heaven. |
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Purple
Her lips
Flutter like
Wings of
A violet butterfly
That glow on
A black-light meadow
And hallucinate
My tripping heart. |
Temple of Karnak
I thread-needle
The aisle
Of sphinxes,
Who soldier
The entrance.
Their ram faces
Out-stare time,
With eyes
Archeologically anchored
In a desert. |
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Loosely Drafted Existence
My life reads
Like a book
Ghost-written by stalking
Alter-ego strangers
That had
Nothing to do
With the
True story. |
The Irish National Famine Memorial
Bay winds
Thread skeletons
Wired to
Circle-cross masts.
The million lives
Hunger shipwrecked
Ensphere suffering,
Form a humble halo. |
In the Finnish Countryside
Fog ghosts fields
By a lake,
While birches
Space woods,
Look like
Unfinished faces
Of proud generations,
Totem poles
To be. |
Basilica Cistern
Carp patrol
The aquatic crypt,
Surface by
A waterproof column
An upside down,
Algal Medusa head foots.
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Lost Jazz Son
Buzz was cremated
Last January.
His trusty
Hollow-body guitar
Hangs on a hook
In a log cabin,
Like a boneless skeleton,
An orphan of music. |
Metropolitan Fodder
From the bay,
The roof of
The opera house
Depicts colliding
Shark fins
That crash
On a surface
Of urban plankton. |
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Groping for Transient Loves
Women cross
My life
In slow motion,
Yet a blur
Of females
Collides with
Gusts of infatuations
A blind
Wind fondles. |
Ayers Rock
The sunrise puts
Seven coats
Of red
On Uluru;
Forty-five-degree heat bakes
The clay-like paint.
All around,
Aboriginal souls
Mass the earth. |
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Daily Flute Rations
The melody
The snake charmer
Plays in Marrakesh:
Ravel's Bolero
Chopped up into
Insane slivers
Of a lure
The old cobra
Diets on. |
Lakebound
Under Christ's observation
On Corcovado,
The butterfly-shaped lagoa
Stills with
Wings of jade
Ipanema hotels pin. |
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Damp Icicles
I feel the shivers
In your eyes,
Clutch chilly tears,
Sense our love
Becoming a
Frost-bitten heart. |
Dali's Sculpture in Figueres
A Venus-de-Milo-like statue
Figureheads the black
Cadillac convertible
Tailgated by
A keel
Of Michelangelo
A tire barnacles
Under a boat
That weeps tears
Of turquoise sperm. |
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My Sister Through Sun-Lit Octaves
The beams
Of harp strings
Celestify her face,
As her fingers
Trapeze across one
Blond-maple wing
Of a butterfly
That flutters
The music
A summer
Heart rhapsodies. |
Rosana's Stage
Your footsteps
Tambourine the
Copacabana boardwalk,
While your rhythm
Palms a
Handmade samba. |
The Amber Iguassu Hives
The sky
Blues the plateau
Of water
Egrets stilt.
Cascades drone.
The overweight rain
From yesterday
Wets down
The hides on
Bumble-bee-
Colored backs
Waterfalls arch. |
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The Soft to Hard Woman
You approach
Like a drizzle
That walks
On tiptoe,
And depart
In heels
That scuff
The air. |
Hand-off Replays before the Homestretch
At the grave,
I focus on
The hyphen between years,
Imagine a hash mark
Or a finish line,
See a boy scoring
Game-winning touchdowns
Or breaking track records.
Driving home,
I think about
The blue-ribboned walls
In the bedroom we shared
And the teenage stories
We relayed through Indiana nights.
I'm moving around
The cindered oval of time,
With memories prone to cramps,
Stretching my hand out
To an invisible runner
Who keeps dropping the baton
In a race
Only a long life wins. |
Menelaus's Morpho
The indigo-blue butterfly
Rides with
No saddle
Of shade
On tame winds,
Then helixes
A ceibo tree,
Whose whale-shaped tail
Keels the soil. |
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Saint Lucia Boat Tour
The steel drum
Music reflects
A face
Of rhythm
That smiles,
While the crew
Captures winds
That surrender
To sails. |