Liberatore Suffoletta

Rookie - 8 Points (July 2,1948 / Pettorano Sul Gizio, L'Aquila, Abruzzi, Italy)

The Princss And The Wind - Poem by Liberatore Suffoletta

Upon a path lined with hibiscus
the delicate princess was playing
her parchment tambourine
laced with crystals and laurel
as silence fell starless fleeing
from the soft rhythm to shelter
Where the ocean pounds the shore
and sends a river full of fishes
To the tops of trees by the path
Where Elijah was sleeping
guarding all the white towers
where the chosen people live
Meanwhile gypsies stole sea shells
and were busy making necklaces
For snails to wear proudly
in morning’s fragile dew

Playing her parchment moon
The princess strolled along
Awakening a restless wind
Sleeping in central park
the blue wind began to rise
opening the heavy lidded eyes
of wandering celestial men
Who watched the woman
Playing her distracting tune

“Woman, let me lift
Your dress and see…
Open with my ancient fingers
The purpleness of your womb”

The princess hurled her tambourine
And wildly ran away
As the wind chased her
With a burning ardor

The river roared its madness
The cherry trees dropped
Their blossoms
The knee deep shadows sang
Out their warnings
As the smooth gong of the snow
Began to disappear in spring
Run, princess, run
Or the old jealous wind will catch you!
Run, Princess, run!
Watch out, here he comes!
Carrying his low stars of the horizon
To hurl with his shimmering tongues

The princess, full of fear
Ran into the house
Where the nameless consul lives
Up beyond all bridges
Frightened by her screams
Three leagues of soldiers
Were sent to protect her
Their black berets belted
Tightly to their cheekbones
The consul gave the princess
A cup of warm wine
And a bracer of vodka
That the princess did not drink

And while she cries
And tells of her ordeal
The wind drops years of furtive
tears on slate gray tiles above
them and gnaws furiously.


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Poem Submitted: Monday, December 28, 2009



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