Spring fever

Dab
the  sky
pink, blue, gold-
I  ache  for   green
dazzling leap of morn- 
Fragrance is you, rain-fresh
With the wild song in your eyes
Around us, earth buzzes - wings - life
Kiss, spice me madly  - I   want   to      do
With you what spring does with the cherry trees

“I want
To do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”

― Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

I have been using this quote in my poems for the last 4 years at the height of the spring season so I am carrying my own tradition.  

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Etheree poetry form, hosted by Victoria Slotto ~

Thanks for the visit ~

The sweet season

Love is a war of lightning,
and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.
-Pablo Neruda




the slow trickle of heat, love
is enough to flame the forest, it is
         season for hunger - smell of rosebuds, a
wave of spring green-     a war-
drum beats, our chests throbbing of
passion-        your kisses are lightning
while my lips are ink and
          pink pressing letters on your skin, we're two
voyagers finding the same spiral shell, our bodies
are petals of clover, ruined
by blazing afternoon sun, by
           wild tempest of colors, a 
language our fingers (re)trace, trembling under a single
symphony-        this season is sweetness

Posted for D'verse OpenLink Night, hosted by Gayle 

Poem form is Golden Shovel - where the end word of each line is a quote from one of Pablo Neruda's poem.  Thanks De for the introduction of this form~

Cherry

Photography by Totomai

Bid the sun to rise soft as dew
On my skin, rain-fragrant trail
And I will bloom, pink and new

Where the knot tangles cold residue
and turns kisses to fading memories 
Bid the sun to rise soft as dew

There's sap on my palms, honeydew
on my lips, bees on my knees-
Soon, I will bloom, pink and new

Wrapping away winter's bluff, so blue 
Paint my core-seeds cerise
Bid the sun to rise soft as dew

There's a spell to brew
Ripening petals in quivering tryst
This blooming, pink and new

I want to do with you
what spring does with the cherry trees
Bid the sun to rise soft as dew
And blooming, I am pink and new


* From Pablo Neruda poem's Everyday You Play:  

I want to do with you
what spring does with the cherry trees


Posted for Poets United - Cherry Blossoms
and D'verse Poets Pub - Villanelle poetry form - 19 line poetry form with two repeating rhymes and two refrains ~  Join me later at 3pm EST ~

May sky, spring songs

Elisabetta Trevisan

Come rain, early & hasty
I am lean & bare as taproot 

Come sun, wild as dandelions
Fingers seeding soft soil

Come lost with winter memories

But musky earth, thick of pine cones

& dewdrops until
Dawn crowns my hair with greening buds

You cup my face
As you would a flower, blooming

sturdy, bucking the cold spell
Weighing down full symphony of spring  

I hear
anyway, echoing of samba nights 

Lean closer as if I am holding
knot of your beating heart

The symmetry of our seasons
burns
              Riding, cresting, falling
                                        until
We are a single petal

Resting under boughs
pink against wood, lush of lavender sky  

Where you are, I am
Ink, color, swelling honeycombs

Fragrance of new day
seeps, awakening

Because I want to do with you
what spring does with the cherry trees.


“I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.” 
― Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair


This is my third time to use this quote every spring time, smiles ~  I never tire of it nor of Neruda poems.  
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub ~  Hosted by Mary ~

Thanks for the visit ~

Sonnet: Hungry eyes

How is it possible that no sounds come 
from your red lips, but I can hear the cadence,
lilt & fall of your words, weaving a spell, fragrant
as tulips & delicate as your thumbs 

Lingering over my verses like dewdrops.  Drum-
ming fingers whisper as I catch each sentence, 
smooth as beads, twined of summer &  patience.  
My hands braille your face, golden as our wedding bands.

I want to leap & curl between the spaces of us -
I want to drink & drown in this heady brew -
Of these & more, I will gladly profess:

You nourish me with your hungry eyes.
Speak in any language, my heart follows you
like the sun, blooming yellow & new of us.



Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Sonnet challenge by Kerry
and Tulips by Hannah - The title was my inspiration ~
Shared with Poets United

I quietly watched this middle aged couple, communicate in sign language during the train ride ~  It enthralled me to no end ~  

Thanks for the visit ~  

What I want to do with you

Cherry Blossoms by Scarlet Verses

suddenly, the sky is a tumult,  
scattering seeds in careless abandon, 
tinged of bluest devotion, abounding -  

you lay on my feet
not one blushing petal nor small bud
but a thousand pink-gaping pearls blooming- 

i reach to kiss your lips, softer than snow
melting my walls into a cup, opening to receive
your words, sweet & hungry as a bee-    

spread my hair among the leaves, steeped
of sun and morning dew drops. drink deeply 
of my fragrance, write love letters on my 
skin, naked earth-

i want to do with you 
what spring does with the cherry trees.*

*Inspiration and line from Pablo Neruda :  Everyday You Play

"My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees."

Posted for OpenLinkNight of D'verse Poets Pub ~  Happy spring day ~

I have used this line before, but thought it fitting to post again after seeing the Japanese trees in full blooms over the weekend.   

Naked under the moon

your words are both sweet and silver
flaming my candle wick --  
incandescent and fevered lips --  
perhaps a full moon's trick  
or song 
weaving spells for miles long --
i slip
smaller hands unto yours --
trusting this:  flare, heat and river 
sweeping, flowing like (h)ours-- 





your kisses are like fire and ice
awakening my words
to gentleness, beholding peace
precious like sharpened sword --
i bare
my thoughts, wounds to your care--
i cease
building walls, an island
next to the sea, lofty with a price
but empty, frail as sands   

Artist:   Gustav Klimt 

Posted for OpenLinkNight of D'verse Poets Pub - every Tuesday, starting 3pm EST 
and One Single Impression 
and Wicked Wednesday - Nice to meet you ~

Based on form of  Robert Herrick's poem - To Daffodils - This is my second offering using this format as I was inspired by the terrific responses to my first -  Shaken by your beauty.

x x x x x x x a                                               Inspirational poem: 
x x x x x b                                                     "All night I have slept with you
x x x x x x x c                                               next to the sea, on the island.  
x x x x x b                                                      Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and sleep,
x d                                                                     between fire and water. "  
x x x x x d                                                      ~ Night on the Island by Pablo Neruda
x c                                                                  
x x x x x e
x x x x x x x a                                             

x x x x x e                                                       

From far away

I like for you to be still, and you seem far away.

                                  The sun rose like a ball of fire this morning
                                  spiraling clouds of pink, yellow and orange  
                                  
In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.

                                 A piece of the sun landed on my hand,
                                 burnt russet and gold, the color of autumn leaves
                                 stirring my limbs and eyes damp of tears
                                 
I remember you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.

                                The journals are littered with pictures,  
                                letters and notes.   It smells of rosemary
                                and Chinese herbs.   My note reads:  
                                10th week, slow progress, nothing yet.     

everything carries me to you, 
as if everything that exists, 
aromas, light, metals, 
were little boats 
that sail 
toward those isles of yours that wait for me. 
                                                           
                               I gazed at the pictures, wishing we were boats
                               with the wind pushing us further into the sea.    
                               All over Europe and Asia, I battled against the clock 
                               to ease your pain. But it was like chasing
                               the hoof print of the shadow.       

The night gallops on its shadowy mare
shedding blue tassels over the land. 

                               The wind became weary of its travels and came home:     
                               bones became stones, cells raged in fury,
                               like black tide, restless and relentless waves. 

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
distant and full of sorrow as though you had died.

                               After 10 years of waiting  
                               death came like an old friend.
                               As the light slowly faded from your eyes,                        
                               I whispered the precious words
                               as if you never left me

 
And you hear me from far away 

Posted for:   D'verse Poets Pub - Collage and The Art of Cento - The left side are fragments of several poems by my favorite poet, Pablo Neruda.   The right side is based on my cousin's long  battle with cancer.   I wished my topic was little lighter but oh well ~ Thanks for your visit ~

To stay

It is I

knocking at your door,

not as a beggar nor

with a question

but someone who has written

the saddest song, 

the loneliest poem 

diminished,
a fraction of lemon leaf, 
bereft of scent and colour 

fear has stilled my fingers 

wanting to pull you under the water tide,   

melting in the roughness, 

arching feet in foamy sands 

i have come

as one who now cries at every moon rise,

wretched with summer's brevity,  
weary of long roads, 

my hands searches

for your light and steady gait,

even your shadows comfort me

I am knocking

not to leave you again

but to stay

yes, to stay 

Inspired by Pablo Neruda's The Question  -  When I don't know what to write, I turn to reading Neruda's poems.  A light piece for this long weekend ~  Back to work on Tuesday~  

Posted for OpenLinkNight of Real Toads  - Monday
and D'verse Poets Pub - Tuesday   

Slow beating of the night

Clasp your moon heart to mine

in the swelling waves of shadows,

closely entwine our cold hands  

like twin seed pods with wings    

Carry me across the ocean steps

where the tide is blue and sand washes 

shore in quickening shades, elusive wind

to artist's fingers huddled over the canvas

Love, because of it, hold me close   

as if an arrow pierced your side, 

as if it is the last call of midnight train 

hurling over the bridge of mud stones

Tie your heart at night to mine, love*,

so I awake to slow beating of your

chest underneath my palms, to the breath

of summer and crust of freshly baked bread       

"So that our dream might reply

to the sky's questioning stars

with one key, one door closed to shadow."

Lines and Inspiration from Pablo Neruda:   Tie your heart at Night to mine, Love

Posted for:   Imaginary Garden with Real Toads and D'verse Poets Pub : OpenLinkNight    

picture credit:   here

The piano

midway during the concert 

the piano waited in pensive mood

ignored in the pocket coat of playmaker

when she came with arrow fingers,

red rose on soundboard  

something snapped, 

jaws of the whale opened

silvery waves rose and crashed

against the salt sprayed mouth,

breaking the emeralds

and ivory keys into shells 

falling to the foamy depths

of the blue sea

echoes of the bullhorns,

trumpets blaring castles of the moors,

thundering the night,

cries of the eagle 

circling the breasts of the moon

then in the dying notes  

melody grew softer 

warm milk,

trickle of sweetness,

breathless sigh

the piano and pianist plunged

downwards, oblivious  

until all was a 

pitter patter of rain,

a dewdrop

   

the man with the baton 

came back 

like a wounded mad crow,

jaws of the whale closed,   

and man walked away 

to silence   

                                                                 abstract art by Ashok

Posted for:   Imaginary Garden for Real Toads and D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight  

Ashok has requested that I write about his art work, music abstract. I drew my post inspiration from  Pablo Neruda's Oda al Piano .   

Thanks for the visits and lovely words.  I appreciate them.

Summer flight

I leap straight into your arms
without looking down
as if I knew you would catch me:
caterpillar hands, dragonfly wings


I gaze at your lips as if I have kissed
them a thousand times in my head, slowly
my fingers travel to your waist and hips,
as if I knew them intimately, smoothly


the seas I have crossed are red
coral reefs still cling to my russet face 
I even smelled death on an old man's tears
and green is my favorite color      

my wings bring me here today 
I don't pretend to understand you wholly 
except that your words storm the shores of me, 
sailing my white tidy boats to voyages unknown  


hold my face cresting on your chest, 
it's warm as the summer grapes 


   
A poetic response to :   Your hands by Pablo Neruda 
"When your hands leap
towards mine, love,
what do they bring me in flight?"


For the D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - every Tuesday at 3pm EST

Thanks for the visit and smiles ~   Happy summer day ~


Picture credit:  here

Wounded

Adrift in the city, I picked up a fallen twig
and lifted its whisper to my pale lips
maybe it was the crying of the geese,
a cracked pine cone, or a bruised heart

Something from afar flutter its wings 
echoes of tropical sea, beside the volcanic bed, 
the pitter patter of rain on palm leaf, 
soft as frangipani petals on bamboo mats 

Awakening from deep winter night, the maple leaf
sang under my tongue, its sweet fragrance 
wafting cheeks, now blushed with hot summer nights

Suddenly my breast clenched in memory of 
my roots, shorelines stringed of coconut husks,
halved, its fleshy juice quenching my thirst,     

and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent. *

Line and Inspiration:   Pablo Neruda:   Lost in the forest 

Posted for:   Real Toads and D'verse Poets Pub:   OpenLinkNight

Thanks for the visit and smiles.    

What I want to do with you

morning paints your eyes grey 
but I smell the wild sea on your hair

the sad wind is blowing away
blue winterdrops on my arms but
i love you 
and my happiness craves the 
honeycomb in your lips

the rain drenches my skirt
tinged with red plums and berries

your words caress my neck,
i want to sink into your folds
like water on parched paper      

the sun nudges my limbs apart,
i want to embrace the scent
of your solitary soul, thrust of passion
in the changing shadow and light

moths and birds flee with our cries, 
leaves quiver to the bee stings 

I want to do with you 

what spring does to the cherry tree.*

"My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees."

-Line and Inspiration from Pablo Neruda's Everyday you play

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - OpenLinkNight - Monday  - Offering a spring poem as requested
and D'verse Poets Pub -  OpenLinkNight - every Tuesday at 3pm EST.    

picture credit:   http://flora-file.tumblr.com/

Walking around

It so happens I’m tired of my feet and toenails,
my hair and my shadow.*

It so happens I’m tired of being a woman.

I pass by dressing shops in my faded jacket of goose feathers.

I don’t want to see shoe stores of animal hide nor make-up counters

of hundred choices to look like someone else.   

I want to chip away my breasts and curve of my hips,

I want to pluck away my eyelashes, shave my hair with a razor blade.

It so happens I’m tired of being a woman.

I don’t want to be just a limb or apple of Adam

Nor the sunflower seeds borrowed under the snow.

I want to carve the rough wood in my hand.      

I want to level the stone steps in my rock garden.

I want to hammer the roof of the cathedral in the city.

That is why on Monday, I will walk to the river edge

Cover my body with breadcrumbs

And allow the seagulls and pelicans to peck my neck,

my lips, my eyes, until I am bare dust.   

Maybe then I can hear the sea shells, broken white, on my feet.

  

* Lines and Inspiration from Pablo Neruda’s  Walking Around

Posted for:   Imaginary Garden with Real Toads:  Mary Mixed Bag  - Borrowing lines to write this poem.  
and D'verse Poets Pub:   Poetics - Sculpting a Poem  - hosted by Victoria Slotto  


I had originally used this picture in my Lightning post.  I think its a cool picture to use for this post.