Home » Poems » Best » Alice Cortazar » Best Alice Cortazar Poems

Best Poems Written by Alice Cortazar

Below are the all-time best Alice Cortazar poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Alice Cortazar Poem

Ann

With the sudden pang in your abdomen
And the onslaught of terror,
Did you look around one last time
At the familiar keepsakes on the fireplace
Or did you avert your gaze? 

In the frosty darkness of that night
As you climbed to that holy shrine 
With mud colllecting at your ankles,
Did the Virgin hail her unexpected visitor
or did she avert her eyes? 

And as you laid there, 
In your bed of stone
And when that moment came at last,
Tell me, were you revealed or petrified
As you finally held what was always yours? 

Were you afraid you’d burn - 
Not like the sages in their holy fire
Or were you pierced with peace, 
Gazing into his evanescent eyes 
In that still darkness of the night?

Details | Alice Cortazar Poem

The Longest Day

The long narrow hallway,
Etched with pain and euphoria,
A mother’s sacrifice and the husband’s touch, 
A parade of white.

The time is concentrated,
Flowing through me like a river,
Wild and roaring
And I stuck - a paralysed effigy on the shore.

On the pricipice of darkness 
I sat, shivering to burst,
Refusing to remember,
What is to be lost.

Details | Alice Cortazar Poem

The Wild One

Out comes the storm
In a galloping parade
Of silver and iron
Honour masking the greed of men

In the rattling and dim wilderness 
The rituals and the songs 
Are ready to be extinguished
By those who rule over gods

And then a fatal sob
Pierces through the still ether
And the keepsakes of ages
Are washed away in a river the colour of blood
- A paradise is lost

And she dashed out of that darkness
Leaving behind her potions
And the archeology of knowledge
Clotted with blood of the wise and the heathen 
Sacrificed onto an unfaithful god
On top of a sun-brimming temple

But the men came for her
As they always do 
Filled with lust and rage
Gnawing, ripping, mutilating 
That dark sacred flesh
Discarded on the wet ground

And she strode deeper and deeper
The wild one of her tribe
With only traces of echoes
Of the only voices she had known

But there are no voices here
They remain only as effigies 
On dirty marble of the victors
- Silencio.