I am humbled that I was voted Author of the Year at Spillwords Press. Thank you to everyone who voted for me, and thank you to the wonderful team at Spillwords Press (NYC).
“…from the writings of the titans coming from the Latin American space to the writings of their counterparts coming from the Slavic space. Yes, I am an American, but I am also a child of Europe. I have been fascinated, mesmerized, frightened, brought to tears…”
I’m so happy for you Gabrela! It is so great to see you get rewarded for your talent. I must say again, it’s not only about helping you, it’s more that you have helped me by your spirit attracting the best followers. You add some of the right elements into my Alchemical boiling pot. My chemistry here would not be right without “Chemical Gabriela” so thanks for all you do! Congratulations again!
trees whisper, cries of cloudy skies inaudible, unseen, you, Astraea, you push me on a long-forgotten trail the ocean, poisoned, green, unsettled warm tongues, ecstasies of memories un-lived defiled the innocence of maiden-stars tears, corridors of sand you, universe that dreamt us all the pain of suffocated myths that die kisses, floating sanctuaries Astraea, you who don’t know desire burn the nihilism of flesh the plight of souls sold for two pennies in slave markets inside the lonely poetry of night
published in Indian Periodical on January 23, 2019
trees whisper, cries of cloudy skies inaudible, unseen, you, Astraea, you push me on a long-forgotten trail the ocean, poisoned, green, unsettled warm tongues, ecstasies of memories un-lived defiled the innocence of maiden-stars tears, corridors of sand you, universe that dreamt us all the pain of suffocated myths that die kisses, floating sanctuaries Astraea, you […]
“Oh, no, but I would love to live here for an entire winter.”
“And what would you do?”
“Every night I will walk in Piazza San Marco, at that moment when the silence becomes so permeable that my steps can be heard from the moon. In the heated, mysterious, thrilling nights of the carnival I will change mask after mask, dress after dress, smile after smile, pain after pain, lover after lover. Every morning I will mix essences of perfumes, seeking for the very one that can revive the mystique of my body, intoxicate my soul, empower my mind. Every twilight I will dive in the coolness of the Adriatic Sea; my body shivering, my soul revived; my memory of him forever gone. In the night I will go to consult astrologer after astrologer in the less known quarters of the city.”
The sound of a church bell tears apart the moist air.
He looks at me: blue eyes, dark hair; powerful voice.
“Tonight there is party at the Doge’s Palace. Would you like to come with me?”
“I am not going to parties anymore.”
“I died long time ago, by mistake. Now I am just a Venetian mask.”
For a moment he looks flabbergasted. ….
excerpt from the manuscript Glass Lovers @short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)
TheCertifiablyTRUERavingsOfASectionedPhilosopher: Don't be afraid to think you might be a little 'crazy'. Who isn't? Check out some of my visualized poems here: https://www.instagram.com/maxismaddened/