2 Poems

By MICHAEL CAYLO-BARADI

Towards Algiers

 

The desert scatters

on our feet. It’s the only

 

surrender that counts,

vast, unobstructed.

Winds forge directions

for us, where

 

suns thirst

restless salaats.

 

Moons huddle

a glimmering city

 

in your eyes.

They curve down

 

your neck, down

to mine, as shadows

 

hold the arcs

of its light.

Tangier – Morocco 2008

Unveiled in Tangier

 

Finally, we gave in.

At least, for now.

 

Souks, alleys, and tunnels

guided us there,

 

through muezzins

flooding

 

the Strait of Gibraltar.

Your gestures

 

stretched the sun,

loud as minarets.

 

Floors tiled patterns,

rising on walls,

 

prayers, and

premonitions.

 

Moonlights, too,

had been squared out.

 

Their curves could

bind whispers,

 

in moments

gasping for God.

 

Michael Caylo-Baradi’s work has appeared in The Common, Metazen, MiPOesias, Munyori, PopMatters, Prick of the Spindle, The Los Angeles Daily News, Our Own Voice, and elsewhere. 

Photos by flickr creative commons users Maurice Michael and Primeroz

2 Poems

Related Posts

opulent room 1

Modest for a Dictator

IRINA HRINOSCHI
They were executed in winter: Nicolae Ceaușescu, and his wife Elena, who was also shot, but in people’s minds this was secondary to her being an insufferable pseudo-intellectual who loved fur coats. And their children, Nicu, Zoe and Valentin, spared during the 1989 Revolution.

white mailbox on the side of a road

A Road, the Sun

CAROLYN KUEBLER
The warmth of the sun, her skin warming up too. Yes, this is it, she says. I have always been and will always be this way. But what way is this? Is it happiness?

A tree growing in a bucket. Twisted branches spiral upward from the large green basin the tree sits in. It's a sunny day in the woods.

Ugly Trees

HEATHER E. GOODMAN
We have a really ugly sugar maple in our front yard. Yard is a euphemism for dirt and weeds. Dirt is a euphemism for clay and rocks. Weeds is a euphemism for invasive species and exhaustion. But we love this ugly tree.