Best Neruda Poems
Four legs quiver
like clumsy cabrioles
striking smooth gray rivers
of zig-zag sidewalk barrios
in rhythm with happy shivers
syncopated on a muffled drum
as we talk and stroll
On our way
hand-in-hand
we persuade and pretend
this day away
taunting and cajoling to demand
laughing “hide and seeking”
chasing and skedaddling
poking and peeking
like cuddly pandas
or canoodling otters
splashing and clambering
We roll and meander
impetuously twiddling all the way
atop gregarious green promenades
we pause in slight delay
as we prattle and prance
as we dance to the Crickets singing
nodding to their fiddling
frolicking with all the jiggling
Serendipitous stalks
of snickering flowers pop
to dazzle and razzle our wits
we glide in stripes of candy bits
of rainbows bright
Purple painted paisley
fragrantly flairs in pairs
of scented lavender sweetness
among black-eyed daisies
dusting the woozy air
in a meadow’s billowing bloom
sunflowers sunbathe in costume
We giddily tarry
as we carry
a feast of fancies and treats
artsy bits of charmed delicacies
filled with a peck of upcoming kisses
enticing fantasies that wink
Snuggling shenanigans lead us astray
as we find our rootie-tootie hideaway
hugs as we shy away
from tomfoolery jesting
to lay down and swoon
looking up at the soon to be stars
lingering for the coming of the moon
Murmurs of Starlings
gaggle their harmonies
of chirps
in cheeks and broadened beaks
thrumming tiny melodies.
Swallows sweep and woo
fixated on this unabashed swain
through songbird strains
announcing a shrilling review
broadening in sweet refrains
“I love you…I love you”
Fingerpainting the Monet sky
puffy white cotton words appear
from clouds passing by
while tiny violins spin in the air
piccolos peep
pigeon-toed Doves coo and weep
their contentedness to appease
trailing off the pleasant breeze
I fall upon my knees
My words explode to strew
like a thousand storms set free
“I love you…I love you…I love you”
In his element,
He pauses for a moment:
And takes it all in.
A fragrance, the tangy dagger
of plums down a road,
sugary kisses on teeth,
juices of life, seeping through fingers,
in sweet ripening flesh,
of meadows, haystacks, the hungry
hiding places in vast houses,
of long forgotten mattresses, wild green valley
glanced from aloft, through a secret window:
all of adolescence burns and drowns,
like a lamp dying down in rain.
***
February 21, 2017
Self made men like you are rare
Such vision and passion you had to share
So sure at such an early age
Of words you placed upon a page
Love flowed through your soul and veins
And spilled upon the pages plain
You pawned everything a man can know
So sure of what you had to show
Then politics became your passion
And people's poet was your fashion
Exiled by the heads of state
Hiding was your newest fate
Until awards upon you fell
And sent you from the man made hell
And though you may no longer live
The words you left will always give.
The Poem Neruda Did Not Write
(Ode to Pablo Neruda)
Hello, Pablo, nice to see you are here!
Not feeding the Bird? at A Lemon grove
that hums A Song of Despair, which appear
to be From--Twenty Poems of Love
that were forever Lost in the forest...
of Nothing But Death, where a Tower Of
Light has not been, and never been, at best
Leaning Into The Afternoons of life,
nor In My Sky At Twilight when I rest.
Like you, Fleas interest me so much... than wife
who From The Book of Questions seeks the Love
of Some Beasts or The Dictators who knife
the Cat’s Dream? The dreams, ah dreams that speak of
dreams! Us; We Are Many, Walking Around
by Your feet, by Your Laughter. Oh, yes! Oft
I like your hat that speaks, to me, of crown
and your coat, covering Clenched Soul of prose
that’s Drunk as Drunk like Enigmas of dawn,
but you know, I prefer you, much because...
Hmm, I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair
and I Do Not Love You Except Because
I Love You, my Brown and Agile Child, heir
to sacred Canto XII from the Heights of
Macchu Picchu, where your speech filled the air.
And what is now? A Dog Has Died, your Love,
but why The Weary One?...still, The Light Wraps You!
Oh unruhige Welt,
höre seinen Gesang,
vom rauschenden Ozean
bis zur weiten Kette der Anden
Erhabenes Macchu Picchu,
hier wandelt sein Geist
zwischen den Nebelbänken
des Urabamba und den
eisigen Höhen der Berge
Du hattest viele Leben,
den für ein einziges
war keine Zeit.
Deine Worte klingen in mir
mit der Melancholie
verlöschender Sterne
Der Pöbel, der dich verletzte,
ließ dir keine Zeit mehr
zum Dichten,
deine Lieder aber in uns
werden niemals erlöschen
Oh troubled world,
hear his voice,
from the soothing sounds
of ocean's surf
to the wide rangeof the Andes
Sublime Macchu Picchu
here his spirit strolls
between the foggy banks
of the Urabamba and
icy heights of the mountains
You had many lives,
as for only one
there was no time.
Your words sound in me
with the melancholy
of dying stars
The mob who hurt you,
did not give you the time
for new verses,
but your songs in us
will never cease
¡Oh mundo intraquilo,
oír su voz!
De los sonidos suaves
de las olas del océano
hasta la altura de vasto Andes
Sublime Macchu Picchu
aquí su espíritu deambula
entre los bancos de niebla
de la Urabamba y
heladas alturas de las montañas
Ha tenido muchas vidas,
como para una solo
no había tiempo.
Sus palabras suenan en mí
con la melancolía
de estrellas moribundas
La plebe que te hizo daño,
no te dará el tiempo
para nuevos versos,
pero tus canciones en nosotros
nunca jamás expirarán
The passionate propensity
of waxing moons' passages,
I crave your poetry
as the air I breathe,
vital spirit aches within intention
hungering the darkly blissed
taste of essential Neruda -
midst the significance of
rose and topaz beyond
arrows of wildflowers,
whence your own scripted
inclinations unfurl
searing 'neath my flesh,
rendering me speechless
'tween lustful sighs,
I utterly surrender in exhales
of a thousand blazing suns
“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”
Pablo Neruda
A sensual man, songs full of his land
Loving love, spoke without censure
His life giving him words
Take me. . . Float me. . .
to your Macchu Picchu.
Swirl me with your images surreal.
Show me nights, like those where stars shine blue
and she is not with you. . .
so I might feel
that beauty born “between the hill and river”
and the loneliness your saddest poems reveal.
“Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair”
Words that brought eroticism to bear
Penned by a man from the town of Parral
A poet for whom there’s no parallel.
Poetry won him acclaim,
Politics tarnished his name;
Pablo Neruda on the Noble Prize
Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto in his parents’ eyes.
Upon his death, people forbidden to mourn
Due to his political views
Thousands of Chileans honored this man
Beyond established curfews.
As a man myself who fancies the verse
Writing poetry my ultimate curse
I envy the works of Pablo Neruda
My only wish? That I knew ya.
Entry in the Pablo Neruda contest
Tengo hambre de tu boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo
y por las calles voy sin nutrirme, callado,
Flocks of birds drop from the sky.
They cling to the branches of trees,
replacing fallen leaves with song,
before resuming their long journeys.
(I am tree)
no me sostiene el pan, el alba me desquicia,
busco el sonido líquido de tus pies en el día.
Stars move down the slope of night,
like footprints in the snow, left by children
who were skating on a lake,
before their parents called them home.
(I am lake)
Estoy hambriento de tu risa resbalada,
de tus manos color de furioso granero
Captain of the Farthest Islands
living poem between my prose
that each one was exchanged for roses
with moonlight and roving mornings
You loved as few have loved
with the madness of sea and clear lyrics
the greatest poet that will remain in us
like him in the calm portrayed...
The island was light and your horizon
was a witness to your fate, luck
let me offer my verse back to you
Weather companion here awaits you
beyond this letter and this death
I follow your companion trace...!
PS translation AND adaptation from a poem OF Adele Carporal BY alkas poetry
Words found him
While the wind was playing
While the rain was crying
While the sea was singing
And the light was coming
Out of the Chilean sky
Opening his infinite eyes
And poems arrived
why yellow flowers
Are so afraid of the wind...?
And the ripe fruits
so afraid of slingshots... ?
why flowers don't
fear nudity so much and
why are they handsome
when naked ?
where is your azimuth,
here, there or the sky...?
why is the sun stays this
so solo... ?
The moon is a chaperone,
or is it without company...!?
Does short rain
fear storm...?
There is something most dangerous
than no flight plane?
why loneliness doesn't
search company for
not being so alone...?
why do dreams reach
its final when we wake up...?
P Neruda 100 love sonnets xvii
C
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