Painting by Yoko Tanji

Yesterday my past I drew

on a canvas of silence and torment

when the Moon was so blue.

What happened? What did fate do?

Life only taught me to lament.

Yesterday my past I drew.

If I could only have a clue,

despair wouldn't be my scent

when the Moon was so blue.

Tears stained my night's dew

and the stars cried without my consent.

Yesterday my past I drew.

Sadness is nothing but a tender tattoo,

an unforgettable mark I did invent

when the Moon was so blue.

What I feel, somebody feels too.

I need some time to be content.

Yesterday my past I drew

when the Moon was so blue.

Karla Bardanza

Villanelle

A Villanelle is a nineteen-line poem consisting of a very specific rhyming scheme:

aba aba aba aba aba abaa.

The first and the third lines in the first stanza are repeated in alternating order throughout the

poem, and appear together in the last couplet (last two lines).

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012

Painting by Patrícia Ariel

As I climb down a flight of the stairs,

holding your words,

carrying the hours,

I profess to myself

what I feel.

Your unheard voice

still shouts me.

( I am not well if you want to know)

I can't think of anything else

and for a few minutes,

I am ouside myself,

running and dancing

about the streets of Rio de Janeiro.

(all I want is the best for our lives, my dear)

But here I stand,

burning to the ground

for I can't bear those days of doubts

and disbelief.

Inside nothing I am

and there is no moon

as I whisper your name,

crouching in the dark.

(all I want is the best for our lives, my dear)

Everything is wrong

 and I have nowhere to go.

Wish I could dance with your words.

But my hands are still over my eyes

when I read you.

when I think of semi-sweet wine.

Karla Bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2011

Both of us will come out of this

with our souls intact as the moon sews

the satin stars.

Both of us still have some time left

to dream together and listen to the waves

when they break upon the shore.

What shall fate bring to those

who rage on?

While we bounce between laugh and cry,
looking for some sort of peace between,
life throws stones at us
and all the answers disappear behind the clouds
and galaxies.
You are satisfied with your paints, brushes
and guitar.
I am satisfied with poems and flowers.
We are two of a kind.
You are heading back down to Austin
and I am still here, shouting again to be heard:
my activism is the only flag I respect.

Our black dogs always bite on us
and release our innermost fears
as time enslaves us.
Yes, my dearest one
we have been blessed and cursed
but we are still looking for something to save us
in the night.
Yes, my dearest one
we are shadow dancers.

We both live in our minds,
we both make up stories
with happy endings
but you and I know how this story ends.
I also know only one answer in this life of mine.
'wholovesya?' You ask.
-George-

What shall become of me
when you're gone?
Yes, my love,
there is no sleep for the wicked.
I shall be awaken forever.



Karla Bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2011

He thinks he can fool the moon,

hiding behind her shadows when

she wanders aimlessly in the sky.

He thinks he knows her depths

of pain and despair when she falls

over and over again and nobody is

there.

He knows nothing about the star

on her forehead.

He only knows she might be crazy or

dead.

He thinks this and that but he never

reaches her hand, he never sees her

heart under his command.

And as time goes by, she is almost near

the window, she is almost ready to forget

him forever and fly.

Karla Bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2011

Love is a word in movement,
scratching the moon, biting the wind,
pushing me closer to me
even when I'm out of the sky
and far from time.

Love is a bold verb, full of
slickness that invents and hisses
my skin, my hair, my suns
in the corner of my bed while
I call you in,
whispering us.

Wipe the teardrops that are still
in my mirror eyes, say
those things lost in you
that are so good to hear.
Let us follow the muses
while the hours abuse desire,
and this kiss searches for you.

Love is the impulse to
life, to this delicate moment
when I want you to be more shameless,
more body and deeper.
Love is the world.

I confess without fear
that pleasure is poetry,
that our now is fearless
as it tears the living room, the bedroom,
the sheets when we are
alone, so beautifully alone.

Love is what hurts me so much
to feel again and it
wraps around me like letters,
words and prayers.
Love is the trap you weave
like a cool and happy spider, saying
with your hands what your mouth
doesn't.

Let us follow the muses.
Love is the blouse on the floor,
the hands without limits, the indecent
metamorphosis of the soul.
It is the pure despair of giving and receiving.
Love is the verb that caught fire.
Love is the quiet fury
living in me again.



Karla Bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2011

Lady Moon



Blessed me in this circle of love


Surround me Mother


With your light


Fill me with your power


And delight


Make my sisters flowers


Come into bloom


Give me your grace


Perpetuate your love in


Our embrace






Lady Moon


Hear my voice


Oh Mother!


Clean my soul


The circle is in my heart


Come...reflect in this water


Let me see your kind face


Listen to your daughter


Hearts beat, oceans flow


As above, so below






Lady Moon


Let the wind blow...






Karla Bardanza
,