Details |
Anna Ruiz Poem
morning comes…
the long gypsy night
gathers her dancing skirts
flees with dark eyes,
my pen is leaking with blue skies
i am filled with surrender,
warm with memories,
the silver on Your
beard catching starlight, Your
lips utterly disguised in my heart’s
rapturing
my pen spills over with intoxication,
drunk,
i write words to caress
You.
Copyright © Anna Ruiz | Year Posted 2010
|
Details |
Anna Ruiz Poem
a samurai’s wife is a dead creature
she’s fallen on his sword, eviscerated
with her office
her geisha face wiped clean just before
the death mask is placed
carefully enough to be recognized
when
apple blossoms fall,
she is
gently carried down
poetic rivulets of blood
and the nightingale escapes
from cracked ribcages
songs women sing
in other lives
when feet were bound and mouths
were stained red with silence
this is not true today
a husband will always follow behind
her funeral procession
butterflies are free to land on any flower while poems
eulogize
they still shoot horses, don’t they
in proper dancing
halls when swords are left behind
in foreign words
Subscribe to this page
Copyright © Anna Ruiz | Year Posted 2010
|