“I am Perdu.” -a poem for the “invisible.”

Today I thought I’d try my hand at a sonnet. The poem is a representation of anyone who’s ever felt, or feels invisible.

The photo is Charlie, my cat, and I think it’s a good visual representation for this piece. I often wonder what he’s thinking as he stares out the window, while sitting on his trunk.

I am perdu, just a phantom’s shadow  

Seen, then unseen, a hologram trickster   

Undead, yet vaporous, I fail to show  

My glacial gait seen as a wing’s flicker

My existence discounted as folk lore

A pair of wraith’s ears captures your gossip

Addled brain yoke, stroked by a broken oar

Seeks validation and relationship

My dim reflection is a lonely “friend”

A mocking mimicker spewing brickbat  

Multiplied by shattered glass, in the end

Translucent, I blend with all that is matte

Just a speck of dirt, or a stain on the wall

I am perdu, the worst fate that can befall

Review of Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings, by Gabriela Marie Milton

On this wintry Tuesday morning, I find myself pausing to stare out into the dark portal of my backyard window, while my fingers hover over the keyboard to conjure an appropriate review for this poetic masterpiece.  I’m no poet, so below you’ll find my best attempt. I hope it will inspire you to read this, and other works by Gabriela, and experience them for yourself.

I was unable to find a synopsis, but this is a book of poetry, after all. Instead, I’m posting the Foreword:

Gabriela is the type of poet Robert Graves had in mind when he referred to being a poet as a condition- rather than a profession. During my correspondence with Milton, it became clear that the lush scenes and stories were not invented as much as they were unleashed. They came from a mind always teeming with ideas, anticipating these moments of expression when the stuff of thought finds its form in lines, rhythm and stanzas.

As Milton said in an interview, “The days in which I cannot write, I have to compartmentalize my brain and my soul, and then bury my fantasies . . . It’s as if I must exorcise my alter ego.”

Yes, Gabriela Marie Milton is a poet of condition.

Her poetry also takes on a cosmopolitan character, introducing the reader to diverse, sometimes fantastical, spaces. In some of these spaces, I cannot help but see fragments of her life flickering by – of being raised in Europe or of her extensive travels before and after settling in the United States. But in all this movement, we’re greeted by a common theme: the universality and borderlessness of love and passion. This is where her collection truly shines and this is where her poetry must be experienced rather than explained.

Foreword written by: Brian Geiger

Editor of Vita Brevis Press

My Thoughts:

I’m one that habitually looks for hidden meanings in descriptions and words. This is where I had to adapt this thinking and do what Brian Geiger has suggested, “to experience rather than explain.”

Once absolved of these tendencies, I was able to fully immerse into the abstract, yet well-mastered palette of imagery, orchestrated by this gifted poet. Here is just one example:

Nordic Play

an island shimmers on the Nordic Sea

your eyes are madness and pale blue

under your fingers the piano

ennobles pain and makes the snow to fall

play the melancholy of winter

white adulterated by a frozen mauve

I’ll make the bed and walk in silence

to the place of roses and cinnamon

don’t follow me

remain and play under the blues of winter

the scented mystery of all the women

who never knew

the fires hidden

in the glaciers of your soul

I highly recommend this book for anyone who savors astral projection to wolf moonlit plains and sun ripened vines of tomatoes bursting with the flavors of scintillating verse.  

Five stars!

Please note that I only post reviews on books I deem four or five stars. Life is short and if I don’t like a book, I simply won’t finish it.

Meet Gabriela:

Gabriela Marie Milton is an Amazon bestselling poet and an internationally published author. She is the author of the #1 best-selling poetry collection Woman: Splendor and Sorrow: | Love Poems and Poetic Prose, and the author of Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings. Gabriela is also the editor of MasicadoresUSA. Her poetry and short prose have appeared in various magazines and anthologies. Under the pen name Gabriela M she was awarded 2019 Author of the Year at Spillwords Press (NYC). Her piece “If I say I love you” was nominated for 2020 Spillwords Press Publication of the Year (Poetic). On July 6, 2021, Gabriela was featured in New York Glamour Magazine.

Blog Amazon.com Goodreads

My Toast To You

There’s no shortage of talent here on the blogosphere, and that goes for some amazing poets, too. Heck, you’re all amazing! That’s why I’ve chosen this theme for my first ever attempt at Concrete Poetry.

I mean every word and I wish you all the best this season and onwards into the New Year!

A toast to all of you, my dearest friends

From near and far, to all four earth’s ends

Pinotage on the heights of the Drakensberg

Beck’s sipped near the Pegnitz in Nuremberg

Be it wine, water, whiskey; just raise your glass

I admire each one, because you are all first class  

May trouble nor fear lay you low, with nary a snare

All dreams and ambitions be realized without a care

Please toast towards Canada and I’ll hoist mine back

Life spare you lemons and misfortune cut you slack

I wish every blessing, joy, and great thing for you   

A very Merry Christmas, and all the best in ‘22

Cheers! Salud! Santé! Prost! Cin Cin!

Kanpai! Saúde! Skal!

Sláinte!

J

O

Y

P

E

A

C

E

LoveHope

Goodwilltoall

Noel!Noel!Noel!Noel!Noel!Noel!

What I’ve Learned From A Heron

This past week, I went for a short hike to a local park and was treated to the sight of our resident heron. This persistent and resilient hunter is a frequent guest at the base of the falls. It’s patience and skill never fails to impress me. I mean, that water is freezing! Not to mention the current and slippery rocks, but that sucker will defy it all and win its dinner.

You rock, buddy!

To show my respect, I’ve crafted a short poem about what I’ve learn from this winged wonder.

Standfast against life’s undertows  

its frigid currents froth with rabid circumstance

eroding some foundations

burying dreams with oozing muck

Cement your grip against the blows

ignore the quips and bites of those afraid to dance  

steel away past frustrations

do not count on simple luck  

Dig in and eye the prize below  

penetrate the roiling surface and take a chance

the waves hide liberation

Heron you render me awestruck

Here We Celebrated.

I can say with great confidence that we’re all weary of COVID and the toll it has taken on so many areas of life.

Yesterday, in spite of everything, in spite of a young girl’s fear that the celebration of her eleventh birthday would be confined to the virtual world, a small family gathering took place at our home. Social distancing was respected, and my beautiful daughter had a chance to safely bask in the love of her three-dimensional family. However, physical touch outside of immediate family was a no-go.

I composed a short poem to reflect on what has been the experiences of so many.

lonechair

 

They came! Pure joy, bright smile, Grandma! Grandpa!

Air hug, squeeze tight, baby girl, please stay safe!

Can they play? I miss the swing, push me high!

Too close, I know, will my heart ache forever?

Daddy, I am glad, but sad, it hurts so bad.

Please play with me. We’ll catch a butterfly.

Leave the net, and step away, so they can see.

Daddy, you are holding me! I’m not a bug.

Who wants a bug when there’s an angel to hug?