Tuesday, December 27, 2022

Fiat Lux




Fiat Lux

                  
art by Olivia Peters
There is a movement in the air

Renoir


Nymphets reflecting cliche

Monet


Watches melting hours to be

Dali


Open hearts, lida

Frida


Abaporu the clay Aborigine

Tarsila

Antropophagy, Anyla


Runs through the ages the same 
spectrum, light, pains
Same love
in multicolored ephyfanies


Cromus and Cronos

awakening

Asleep


Entangled in the web

ideas and dreams

dripping from the veins

empty hourglasses

Sand castles


Dually

The dawning Sphinx gazes

decipher me

As the dusking thinker

Ponders eternal in vain digression

Rodin


In the fertile tubes

Rest yet paints

chisels, rhymes

When suddenly

from within the stone:

A Scream


Fabiana Avila | Poet

Thursday, February 10, 2022

Tiny little things

Tiny little things:

cells,

seeds

dew droplets

warm tears

Within the cytoplasmic membrane

the enigmatic code

the mathmatical sequence

Exact

Of things that are

and things yet to be

Tiny little things

the newborn’s hand

delicate flower blossoming in life

toothless smiles

the stripes on fuzzy bees

Tiny little things

tenderness, finesses

warm delights

of so much love

minutely structured

within the crimson fibers

of the pulsing heart

Tiny little things:

the stars,

little dots in the endless sky

so far,

but so brilliant

inside me

Fabiana Avila


Tuesday, December 17, 2019

A Firefly in Columbia Heights


A firefly!
Mom why?
Why do they flash lights?
At the sound of bumble bees
Wheezing buses
Aroma of roses
Why mommy?
Why trash on the ground?

The squirrel with a naked tail 
Chase the brown one
Over an occasional nut

Mommy that man needs a bath
Shhhhh
But mommy, he is so dirty

What’s that smell?
Trash, honey
We need to wash it mommy

She starts to sing
“- Let it go, let it go”
little hands like tiny magic wands
creating a new world

 Firefighters fly by
With screaming sirens
Gunshots echoes from Columbia Road

That’s too much noise on my ears mommy!
Smile
She seriously stands her right hand up:
- See the red hand? We must stop at the raised hand

Glimpses of wisdom
I suddenly understand
Beyond science
Why do fireflies flash their light


in Columbia Heights

Will this children's light ever shine?


by Fabiana Avila


Friday, May 10, 2019

Sistere (to stand still)



That brief moment

Our paths reach

Either our highest

Or lowest

Where do we start from?

Where are we going to?

Where in heavens will be traced

The Segment

Of our brief fragments?

Yet, when we begin

What before?

What era?

Ever?

Today reaches

The solstice of a soul

The world sees immobility

Appearance

A rock

But the course is changing

a new season rises

As this long wait ends

a new sitting begin

new drops form

for the next rain

new life sprout

to die and give life

again and again

silently

as the mountain moves

beneath our feet


by Fabiana  Avila

Tuesday, October 23, 2018

Hollow

It’s dark, and I walk alone
blinding lids of long shut eyes
I breath no longer
and the ground is lonely

Deaf has silenced my being
no howls, no cries
I hear no more
No words of good bye

Still this road
this ever so long road
to be under, to walk
climbing the stones of solitude
in this ebony silent night

The blood dries within my heart
as the last glimpses of consciousness
are pitch painted in the chambers of Lethe
Yet, from within the universe
This mighty propulsion:
Forward!
Steps, skips, falls
rivers of cold waters, I feel no more
The road is dark
and I stand alone

Friday, September 1, 2017

The man from Apolo 15


In 1985, as he publishes
Entering Space: An Astronaut’s Odyssey
I entered kindergarten on my literary voyage
In another world, Votuporanga
He is Allen IV,
I, just the middle child

He entered as salt and pepper sprinkles
on our Friday lunch
At the heat of our discussion
about the ugly faucets
our darling husbands
decided to choose
with the plumber’s guidance...

Here, back on Earth,
As he entered retirement in 2004
from his exits to the moon
I was leaving my Earth
(besides being called a loon)

As life’s shuttle orbited
Around years in and out
As I entered the galaxy of marriage
the constellation of motherhood
the nebula of my accomplishments
our paths cross:

He enters the room
with a gaze of one
who’s seen the moon
With a cane, and a NASA pin
on the navy blue lapel

Still in pilot mode
strategic stops
and plenty nerdy jokes

I tell him skeptical
Are you sure you are an astronaut?
You should have been a comedian

He smiles and tell
yet another one about the burned church.
Holly smokes, I just met Joseph P. Allen IV! 



Washington, DC, Salt and Pepper Restaurant, lunch time with Etna Cantora and Andrea



Monday, August 28, 2017

My visit to you


Hi dear friend
darling of mine
sister of my heart

I visit you in thoughts
in prayers
in tears
but overall, thinking of you
I visit you in smiles

I come alone,
but in my soul
this building of past
present, tomorrow
this castle of sand
of diamonds
guarded by courage,
threatened by fears
I bring the world, the ones far and near

I come to see you
sweet window
to be surrounded by your caring light
to hear the wisdom of your music

I bring you flowers
petals of poetry
from life’s garden
fresh, organic
raw blades of green hope

I bring you a chair
not to seat, but to dance around

Put your dancing shoes,
Dance Aviva,
I came to visit, because when I do
who visits me is you!


To my friend Zahara Heckscher