Untitled #10

How you wake me up, take me outside
with a slender hand, call me curious
when I peek from under my eyelashes,
you spill secrets on the pebbled beach
let the crabs scoop them up, and hide
them away in the long grass. An elegy
to our moment that stands in the distant
harbor, you keep walking bridges
and losing track of time. How can you gather
symphonies when your hands are picking
sweet cherries?

How you rise out of the earth, shake off
your life and walk silent against the sky
never to belong to another, years after
the salt waters have folded back.


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

Untitled #9

Kate stands at the door
her vision blurred
with downy feathers,
a rolling fog holds her still
she leaves behind a map
with thumbtacks and string,
a hotplate and a shelf with only
her favorite books (a dozen
or so) to keep her mind
company on the winter nights.
Half the world is asleep
the clouds bring her
their sleeping sounds,
blotted and restrained
with storm cloud static.
Her open hand catches on
the ivy that covers her
front wall and the stones
hold back the ocean
a precipice, a light tower.
Here at the end of her dream
caught in a white blindness
only spindly vines color her red.


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

Untitled #8

Here, they greet Brooklyn mornings
with a tall cup of foamy coffee,
in an intolerant belly
that rumbles and grumbles
along with the steel rolling cage.

Below, the water keeps rising
we can barely hold it back
as it seeps and floods the tunnels
causes delays and detours.
Where did we leave our wings?

Today, tourists sit on double-decker bus
looking down upon the natives
in the ritual of caffeine-on-the-run.

Tomorrow, our streets will run with water
the bulls would have long since drowned
in the white-wash of financial matters.
An imperfect reflection of the sea devouring
our coastline and shifting seeds to higher ground.


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.