Short Andalusian Poems

A love story in an Andalusian grove
that belongs now as a last look
at a cat-scan.

Beneath that olive bower,
she sips a glass of La Rioja Alta.

He looks at the scan.
He keeps looking at the scan
hoping to see vineyards.

The fruit he sees is dark
and the vine pale.

He raises a last glass of wine
to her....

Read More

It was cooler on the veranda.
Below us a guitar translated the dark.
Orchids unrolled their purple tongues
to arbor moonlight.
We had quarreled earlier,
now I lowered my head in your lap.
Someone was singing about the sea;
the way the sea cries for the kiss of the shore,
how the sand runs to be drowned -
we both understood.
You went to lie on the bed.
Later, sangria washed salt from our lips....

Read More

-Nothing there is.
Poem. 
-Is the poem nothing? 

-None there is. 
Poet. 
-Is the poet none?

-Nothing there is. 
Immortality of decaying! 
-Is the immortality of decaying nothing?

-Oh; nothing and none without poet, poems 
and immortal being! 
-O' its great projected planet.


-November 25, 2018 Chattogram


///
By Reading Juan Ramón Jiménez, Andalusian poet, a prolific writer who received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1956 "for his lyrical poetry...

Read More

I want an Andalusian woman.
Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin.
One who looks beautiful in a summer dress
and has a Gypsy song in her heart.
All men dream of their ideal woman
and I'm sure most never actually find them.
Most of the time we find one who is the
complete opposite.
Compromises, always compromises. 
But I hear Lorca's guitar weeping
and the flamenco rhythms in the Mediterranean
air, coursing through my Mediterranean blood
along with every other silly notion I've had lately....

Read More