Fly Little Angel — Poetry By Archangel White Wolf

There was an angel
That wanted to fly
She was kept in a cage
So instead she cried
Her tears were felt
From far away
A winged warrior appeared
And he held sway
With all his power
Fury and rage
He set her free
From her cage
Fly little angel
Soar to the stars
And never be afraid
To be who you are

Fly Little Angel — Poetry By Archangel White Wolf

seduction – Short Prose

#poem #poetry

Via short prose from March 4, 2020 
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the rhythm of castanets awakens the moon
on opal rings your kisses spin
a cricket’s hitting a crescendo
waves tattoo dark shadows on your skin
sonority, you who vibrates the souls
of those who haunt at night the Port of Cartagena

I toss in smells of apricots and plumes
the Hand of Fatima takes off my veils
your forehead sinks into the sweat of lovers
who sever their veins
oh, dream of the unknowns,
you, latency,
the sigh of blood which flows
in spring both mud and flowers grow

didn’t you know
that when you said I love you
you stepped on roads of fables and folk tales?
you glued your heart onto a purple sunset
smells of lilac and of roses, impregnated strolls,
seduction,
it wasn’t me
it was you who stole his soul

Published by Spillwords on June, 4 2019; included in my upcoming poetry book Passion: Love Poems and Other Writings.
Passion: Love Poems and Other Writings also includes several poems translated in Italian by Flavio Almerighi. I am most grateful to Flavio for his magnificent translations. For more poetry in Italian please visit Flavio’s site here

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M) pingback dear.

Another great piece…
I hope you didn’t mind my nearly facetious teasing a bit on the previous reblog.. Just wanted to get folks attention about the click being more important than a like.

image:  Anna Ismagilova; Shutterstock; [link]

Will you vote for Short Prose again? I just did! Her poem “the biblical sense of the know” runs first at Spillwords Press NYC

Seeing as my reblogs of Gabriela are the most liked of all my posts, I’m sure some of you will definitely will click the –> link <– and vote right now. If its not your first inclination to vote, would you please click here and read the poem and if you like it please vote.

From short-prose-fiction on March 26, 2020 

My Dear Readers,

My poem the “biblical sense of to know” runs first for Publication of the Month at Spillwords Press. Will you please vote for me again?

You can vote here under Publication of the Month, after Author of the Month.

You can read the poem here.

You do not need to have a Spillwords account to vote though it is easy to open one. You can vote with your Twitter or your FB account.

  1. Publications are nominated 100% based on the popularity within the last 30 days
  2. The voting will begin on the 26th of each month at 12:00am Eastern Time
  3. The voting will last for 4 Days

There are several authors nominated for author of the month.
If you like any of them please vote.

Thank you for your vote and congratulations to all nominees.

Yours

Gabriela

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)
Via: Will you vote for me again? at Spillwords Press NYC — Short Prose

I know my loyal followers and liker’s will click… Thank you folk for taking a second to click a couple of links. Her stuff is wonderful and she deserves every click. She has filled my days with beautiful words, and I tried to pass that beauty on to you all and never knew it would attract so many poets with so many more beautiful words from you talented writers. In this time of world wide fear and upheaval these words that make us think of beauty, happiness and passions and help both the readers and the writers feel better by giving an outlets for the pent up stress we all are experiencing. You’ve all helped me express and cope better with all the current intensity in my life. Thank you all for your support. The strange synchronicity and the apocalyptic feeling everyone in our mountain valley got spun into by our earthquake just after they decided to class it a pandemic still has us all thinking,, whats next?? This year has been like that for everyone to some extent. The more we come together and support each other the better we cope with this intense time of of unrepresented change and potentiality of death. It’s the same for everyone, for someone we all know is at very high risk at this time and we have contemplated the loss.
Sorry for my bluntness.
Stay well and stay close to your higher power.

Don’t forget to vote for Gabriela. 👍❤
THANK YOU ALL!!

“I wanted to love you” up at Free Verse Revolution #poetry — Short Prose

each word I write cries on the tunes of spring,

a spring that ends in graveyards and in dreams

the night I abandoned you on that bench and left

snows in my mind the syllable of hell

I wanted to return 

I wanted to love you

I choked on ecstasies from vaguely bluish lands

that night I took a part of you with me

I cashed your soul and threw it to some dirty lips 

I bought one ticket from a shaman dressed in red

and flew towards the island of nowhere 

and now between the mighty heaven and the hell

I love you and I hate you are the same 

and I return to find the pardon of the sands

to kiss your dust left on your mother’s hand

I dress in colored ashes and black skirts

the language of the prophets with no tongues 

on a new bench I sit alone at funerals 

and wait until the sea closes its eyes 

to resurrect the ghost of love that you inscribed 

on the red bridge between your spring and mine

I wanted to return 

I wanted to love you… 

++ a great poem from Gabriela ++
Posted at Free Verse Revolution be sure to
follow the links to support her by clicking and
scrolling so SHE GETS THE CLICKS!

(I hate to post a partial work, but I clicked and you loyal fans should also, and thanks to both Gabby and all of you who always like my re-posts of her work)
So please read Spillwords Author of the Year (2019) interview here 
@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

Poem “I wanted to love you” up at Free Verse Revolution #poetry — Short Prose Gabriela Marie Milton

Via: short-prose-fiction poetrywriting  on March 24, 2020 

This was supposed to have posted day before yesterday..
I got hacked by a spy bug, and my internet service was being tracked. I mean like possibly all I was doing online. I’m not sure why this was back in my drafts instead, but better late than never…
See you in the morning boys and girls…

“I wanted to love you” up at Free Verse Revolution #poetry — Short Prose

each word I write cries on the tunes of spring,

a spring that ends in graveyards and in dreams

the night I abandoned you on that bench and left

snows in my mind the syllable of hell

I wanted to return 

I wanted to love you

I choked on ecstasies from vaguely bluish lands

that night I took a part of you with me

I cashed your soul and threw it to some dirty lips 

I bought one ticket from a shaman dressed in red

and flew towards the island of nowhere 

and now between the mighty heaven and the hell

I love you and I hate you are the same 

and I return to find the pardon of the sands

to kiss your dust left on your mother’s hand

I dress in colored ashes and black skirts

the language of the prophets with no tongues 

on a new bench I sit alone at funerals 

and wait until the sea closes its eyes 

to resurrect the ghost of love that you inscribed 

on the red bridge between your spring and mine

I wanted to return 

I wanted to love you… 

++ a great poem from Gabriela ++
Posted at Free Verse Revolution be sure to
follow the links to support her by clicking and
scrolling so SHE GETS THE CLICKS!

(I hate to post a partial work, but I clicked and you loyal fans should also, and thanks to both Gabby and all of you who always like my re-posts of her work)
So please read Spillwords Author of the Year (2019) interview here 
@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

Poem “I wanted to love you” up at Free Verse Revolution #poetry — Short Prose Gabriela Marie Milton

Via: short-prose-fiction poetrywriting  on March 24, 2020 

I don’t remember how you looked… — johncoyote.wordpress Via virginiacarvalheira

`

I DON’T REMEMBER HOW YOU LOOKED…

      John Coyote

Dreams can become nightmares. Nightmares can become sweet dreams one day.

I don’t remember how you looked.

Your eyes were blue, maybe hazel green?

Your hair golden blond or maybe strawberry red?

I  try to describe you and each time I remember less.

Sometime I dream of grasping your hair,

our bodies fighting for the sake of pure pleasure.

You calling out my name, words of love.

You spoke only in the turmoil of sex.

I yearn to see you still.

Your sweet hello’s were sweet and long.

Our goodbyes were long and written deep into the walls of my heart.

I remember your long legs,

you dressed like a woman,

but had the hunger of a child,

seeking the education of the tongue, the touch and the long ride.

I don’t know if you remember me.

I still seek you.

Your hunger was to become mine

and my hunger was to touch you again.

I lost you on a cold Spring day.

I became old as you walked away

with tears and too many words spoken.

I released you for my hunger was to have you forever.

You were seeking a place to rest and get strong again.

Your wish to be free. Was more powerful than mine to

in prison an angel.

I still wish for a gentle knock on my door.

To hear your sweet hello,

fall into your arms again.

Life is only fair in sweet dreams.

I wish to see you,

to look into those beautiful eyes,

to remember how you looked.

John Coyote

1984/rewrite 2012

I don’t remember how you looked… — virginiacarvalheira

A whole week #flash fiction #short prose — Short Prose

Via: A whole week — Short Prose

A whole week.

Seven agonizing nights; seven suffocating nights rushing over me, parching my soul with their torrid breezes.
Myriads of mosquitoes murmuring in the dark, looking for prey: my own flesh, my own blood.

Nights extending their heavy tentacles over the city, strangling it as a venomous octopus; abandoning it at sunrise lacking vigor, emptied of hopes, filled with trash.

Glued to my body, lace and silk soaked in perspiration: fingers of delirious passions looking for my skin.  

In this city clocks have no hands, years have no months, months have no days.  Outside of time, this city is innocent, perverse, philosophical, suicidal.

Shadows of your eyes

Fragments of your love.  

Dark.

image: Guryanov Andrey; Shutterstock; [link]

short prose from – Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings:
available for pre-order on March 30th.
publication date April 30th.

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

Your thoughts … ❤

⚔️❤️The Promise ❤️⚔️ — Poetry By Archangel White Wolf

The Promise 

She told me stories
I heard her plea
Her cries for help
Brought me to my knees
I have seen the things
You don’t wish to see
I’ve fought wars in places
You wouldn’t want to be
I’m battle hardened
But I cannot lie
Her desperation
Made this warrior cry
I made a promise
In moments of strife
I’ll protect you
With my life
You said you love me
With no regrets
That is something
I’ll never forget

⚔️❤️The Promise ❤️⚔️
Poetry By Archangel White Wolf

Life’s Real Treasures — Fun with Philosophy

We seek happiness
In the luxury that we see
When eternal contentment
Is a treasure so free

A venture in the woods
A walk by the beach
Pristine Mother Nature
With so much to teach

We can rush to the finish line
To claim that we’ve won
Or stop to smell the flowers
Before the journey is done

We can chase the big things
While life passes by
Or resurrect our childhood
Enough to lift us up high

We can seek happiness without
And get lost in ‘things’
Or stop for a deep breath
Realising it’s all within

We can bleat at life
And fall deep into its pit
Or watch the sun rise
And be glad that it did

Via: Life’s Real Treasures — Fun with Philosophy
By SaaniaSparkle 🧚🏻‍♀️

You don’t have to old to be wise. 💕☮🔯