Montserrat Martinez Poems

There is a commotion of boisterous noise
To which the whole world is enraptured listening to,
A clamour is raising among the streets of dear homeland
Gallantry and audacity, heroism, and gut.
...

I hear a serenade distantly
A melody of syrupy tone,
Of heavenly notes and profound melancholy.
A symphony of virginal voices,
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I am a refugee
I am an itinerant person
An unsettled soul journeying
In precarious lands.
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He came from a faraway country,
Renouncing a contentment existence
On dear motherland
For the land of fog and brew.
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Remember that first kiss?
I do.
Do you? Tell me more…
I remember a tender desert of sugarplum
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A Smokey coffee on an icy winter morning,
My eyes haltingly catching a glimpse
Of the precipitant shade of winter sun,
While your body lies still in the quietude
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In faraway lands,
Submerged in agonizing remote realities
Where the glazing sun is of muddy reflection,
The air begrimed by a rain of warm weapons
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In the improper hours of the morn
Is a space of dimness and blurred instants
Induced in a curtain of lethargic dreams
I feel your touch on my inside
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Isn't life beautiful?
And startling, arduous, formidable
Also stringent, and yet gratifying
Now and again, in the mist of uncertainty
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Will you ever know how much my heart is bleeding at this moment in time?
Do you even know that your words, perhaps not even properly processed in your convoluted brain, have caused me major pain that I, today, believe will last an eternity?
Can you even understand that a kind heart, so unique in its delicacy, has been shattered with your illiterate bickering perhaps until the end of times?
Will you understand that I'm broken beyond repair because your gaze can reach as far as your nose, your comprehension blind, your impiety flawed?
...