Tag Archives: Memories

Tousled Lady

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Tousled Lady

in the parking lot
lugging milk and corn flakes
and bread in brown
paper bags,
you catch
my stolen glance
at your little
boy,
you grimace,
forgive me
for intruding
into your private
world —
I walk away

into the store,
Friday towards dusk,
my hair flows neatly down
my shoulders,
my blouse
crisp and creaseless,
my list is short,
the evening hours long

for the laughter of my little ones,
the crinkle of brown
paper bags, the crackling
of corn flakes in milk,
the warmth of bread baked
in my own peculiar
world
of long ago.

by D. G. Vachal © 2012

I Write To Find You

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I Write to Find You

Nameless sorrow,
grief unspoken,
tears flow
from boundless oceans,
torrential rains
lambaste
ebony waters —

you are gone  

I search syllables,
consonants,
vowels once spoken
by a voice beloved
reverberating still
in the chambers
of my broken heart —

only silence

weary eyes close  
at light of dawn,
your face flashes
in the clouds
of my restless
dreams until

I awaken to begin
my search
to find you
once again.

D. G. Vachal © 2023

“Love Letter”

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by D.G. Vachal

At the end of winter daylight
when lemon passion glows
with the ardor of periwinkle,
at unexpected moments
I remember

a melody long forgotten,
jubilant as a nightingale’s song,
that led my fledgling
heart to soar
towards the blazing stars
once upon the sands of time —

Now, when it matters no more,
I recall the scribbled ink upon the paper,
a voice that called my name,
at twilight’s edge
when my heart beholds the colors,
the warm farewell
of the setting sun.

D. G. Vachal © 2014

“Archipelago”

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Between now and oblivion
lies an archipelago
infinitesimal
as a grain of sand,
expansive as the universe
of my remembrances:
where lost loves wander
stranded,
entangled,
enslaved.

The islands are mine:
the ylang-ylang,
jasmine and hibiscus —
let the florid scents haunt
my shipwrecked loves
as taunting ghosts warble
melodies of our laughter —
let parrots recite my poetry
from parchments drenched
in perfumed
tears.

O Archipelago!
for the leaving
I cannot leave,
for the weeping
I cannot weep —

tidal waves do not
wear you down,
nor the anger
of volcanoes —

you are always there
between now and oblivion.

by D. G. Vachal © 2012

* photograph: Archipel Sulu, Phillipinen by Volker

… an edited version of the original poem written in 2012

“Twilight and White Linen”

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Twilight and White Linen

Here we are and time
forsaken
when I found you —

latitudes of faces,
provinces
of eyelids and shoulders,
verdant archipelago
sculptured in sapphire
oceans,
the orbital fruit dangles,
suspended
from its ripening —

Twilight and white linen
stoke the hunger —

I slice zucchini
into cylinders,
slender wedges,
peppers into strips
of scarlet,
toss the cuttings
into volcanic oils of olive,
aromatic sesame —

the meat is warm
for the tasting,
pearls of rice turn amber
from the fragrant
spices —

here we are
and time.

by D. G. Vachal © 2013

*** Image by Rob Espierre