Poem | There Are Streetlights In Paradise | The Larger Geometry

2015 – Madagascar

Written 2018, January 22
06:51 pm

After Ian Wedde

Snow falls from glass skies. Your single finger points; there
you say, you can almost see through it. We are
like raindrops, scattered by the streetlights
outside your house, little follicles of heaven in
your asphalt back yard, our frozen paradise
in this new year. You tip your glass towards the pavement, and our
clocks stand still. Even the clouds are hollow, receptacles of golden
light. We painted them with the hands of children
and on this sunlit night, we dance.


Just published in The Larger Geometry: poems for peace. The book is now available on Amazon here. I’m very glad to be included in this project.

 

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Poem | Somarôho

2015 – Crater Bay, Madagascar

Written 2015, August 27
11:18 am

There is color in the skies, mirroring the ground’s beat, and the bustle of feet has never felt so lively, and it is suffocating and liberating, the smell of people sickening and overwhelming, comforting and beckoning, drawing you in, conning you into believing that this, this chaos, this unison without form, is home somehow, and you believe it, you do, because what else is there to believe, what other course of action to take, but forward, constantly forward, moving not through or alongside the crowd, but with it, watching it move alongside you, and this is, in truth, an individual act, a motion comprised of individual persons with individual lives, and there is music in the streets today, you know, but you cannot hear it, no, the noise, the noise, it’s too much, it is drowning you, taking your breath from your lungs, but you are at peace, you do not mind, because this, this is home, and the con is not a cruel con, no, because you know it for what it is, a lie wrapped in clothes of red and yellow and blue, but you close your eyes to it for now, because lies are ideas, and they are real, and they matter, and because yesterday there was no music in the streets, and tomorrow there will be no rush of people, but today, today is now, today is present, and today can last forever if you let it.

[Note: Somarôho – Malagasy festival, Nosy Be, Madagascar]


Just published in Flash Frontier’s October 2018 AFRICA issue: flash-frontier.com. Thanks to the editors for selecting this piece.

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Poem | Orchid

2017 – Lake Manyara, Tanzania

Written 2018, March 05
10:00 pm

She told him he should pick the flowers. He’d accepted the duty without a word. He likes the pink ones. Not pale, baby pink; lush pink, dark, like fire. Wild. She approaches from behind. They’re pink, she says. Yes. You can’t have pink, she says. Why not? Silence cuts the air between them. He wants to reach for her arm, cradle her elbow with the tips of his fingers. It’s been three weeks. She hasn’t even held his hand. She liked pink, he says. Pick something else, she says, and walks away.


Just published in Olentangy Review’s Spring 2018 issue: olentangyreview.com. Very happy to have this piece there.

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Poem | Twilight, Nov. 07, 05:50 am

2017 – Ihla de Mozambique, Mozambique

Written 2017, November 07
05:50 am

Light spreads its way
across the sky like a

drop of ink
on dry cotton sheets:

starts at one point
and expands

as wind shuffles
over bodies, seas

hoist your sails
and I’ll throw this one

over
the night can have it

now
hear the waves

how they seem satisfied
with their hour’s catch

and the dawn smells
so strongly

of copper
and of iron ore

and the clouds
are flowers, hyacinths

to be touched lightly, caressed
by your delicate fingers

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fingers comma toes | January 2018 Issue: Unthemed – published

fingers comma toes‘ January 2018 issue is now published. It is our first unthemed issue, and resulted in lots of diverse artwork and writing from students around the world.

The issue can be found here: fingerscommatoes.wordpress.com/2018/01/31/january-2018-issue-unthemed

For more information, see fingerscommatoes.wordpress.com.

Thank you.

—Lola Elvy

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Poem | From Your Eyes Spills Darkness (The Crow IV)

2016, December – Düsseldorf, Germany

Written 2018, January 21
11:18 am

The stone beneath your feet is cold
and smooth as the pads on the undersides
of your small toes, your gripping fingers
reaching, grasping, holding, tightening

I come to you with the shadows of millions
billions, with hands
like yours, hearts
like yours, skin

so soft and unafflicted
from your eyes darkness spills
it whispers thoughts with tendrils reaching
creaking and prying between my teeth

making old pains in my jaw ache dully
with the taste of fresh life
you are new to this world
a child in its wooden arms

and your slumber is ever sound
come, lie in my
wooden arms
my wings of death and solitude

I will fly you from this earth
build you a tower fit for the wisest
of fools and the wealthiest
of paupers

a heaven for your sins
a holy grail
for your richest-tasting sorrows
and the life that lives no more

shall be laid to rest behind your eyelids
that final beat of warmth
in the last hot tear that falls
down your curved cheek

come close your eyes and sleep
on the feathers of my back
ride with me with the souls of millions
with hands like yours, hearts like yours

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Poem | Towns

2016, December 21 - Austria (by the river Lech)

2016, December 21 – Austria (by the river Lech)

Written 2016, December 23
01:38 pm

The sun sets
and our smallest of towns
is painted red
in its infinitude

Snow falls
behind our eyes
in our dreams, the skies
are torn

Birds
spin ribbons
around us, —-dance
above our heads

In our minds, we learn
to sing
in our minds, we learn
to hear music

In the dark, you lie
so still

—Lola Elvy

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