Monse…by Francisco Bravo Cabrera

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If I were to introduce the sweetest angel,
a companion for the sins that grace the soul,
who lives close to the crossroads,
and I’ll mention,
her door is always open for a call.
Her arms will always be there to give comfort,
She’s always so polite and in control,
You’ll dream of her soft touch forever after
and you’ll thank me that I spoke of her at all.

Should she ask you for a drink,
buy her a dozen,
and if she wants to dance,
then sweep her off her feet,
she’ll fit into your arms with warmth and slowly,
she’ll populate your dreams with her deceit.
So drink and dance through kisses indiscrete.

Perhaps you’ll find her house next to a river,
her red light’s always on I must admit,
she’s, clever and precise,
meticulous and wise,
although it’s been so long
I must admit…

I’ll pay the bill, you take her out to dinner,
she likes her French perfume and Pinot Noir,
ice cold vodka, aubergene,
reality’s not what it seems,
when eating buttered toast and caviar.
She breathes through incense, scented candles and she’ll take you,
away from lights, reflections and the bar,
you’ll see her smile that lights up with intentions
to make your life as brilliant as a star.

Should she say this night ends frightfully at midnight,
It’s because she lives on this side of the clock,
but don’t you hesitate at all,
one can’t resist, no not at all,
her melancholy emptiness and call.

So tell me if you hear my Monse singing,
the songs that link her heartbeats to desire,
share some time in her sweet home,
after all you’re quite alone,
and you’ll live for those night’s memories
for centuries to come…

Remember that her house is bathed with stardust,
her roof, like a cathedral, is a dome,
her breasts are like the spires,
her eyes like green-ice fire,
and within her embrace, the entire universe,
is made of sculpted marble and of stone…

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Can thoughts, memories, ideas, personalities, conversations et cetera et cetera transcend the grave? Is life on the other side of an impenetrable barrier? Or is it a porous membrane where feelings, and emotions can cross through and once again fill up the spaces of our life with what once was that is gone?

I believe that the complex mechanisms of our mind, filled with exaggerations, feelings, desires, dreams and other things, comprehends something eternal. Things or people cannot end, or stop with the passing of this ‘mortal coil’. The spirit is immortal and we are spirits with bodies, albeit temporary ones.

In this poem an old, old soul, ready to cross to eternity is giving a younger friend some advice about visiting a woman he once knew who worked her charms in an old town, somewhere. He is not too certain where, exactly, her house is located, though he knows that his young friend will find amusement and a pleasurable time there. So he goes on and on about her, then at the end, he remembers that her house is eternity and that she lies beneath a marble stone…

C.2022, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 06 JUN 2022, Izmir, Turkiye

3 respuestas a «Monse…by Francisco Bravo Cabrera»

  1. Avatar de Monse…by Francisco Bravo Cabrera on LatinosUSA (English edition) – JaZzArt en València

    […] Monse…by Francisco Bravo Cabrera […]

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  2. Avatar de Meelosmom

    This poem is magical!

    Le gusta a 1 persona

    1. Avatar de valenciartist

      Thank you so much Barbara!

      Me gusta

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