Tuesday, September 16, 2008


as a word, as a metaphor
repainted, renovated, improved
into orchids, tears or air

unspoiled by illusion, unscarred by deception
with all the power conceded
and all the tags that dangle
on all the shapes it borrows

in its cradle
raw, naked, immaculate
unconceivable in its very core
and soaked in its very truth

still won't say

audio version


ellumbra said...

You're right, I'm sure,
For it cannot speak its name,
A paradox for the tongue,
A bewildered blessing to be.

Fabulous Carolina.

Carolina Z said...

Thank you so much!

Anonymous said...

in some ways it is a paradox ..and it's one we all seek.. for if you find it then hold on to it..because it only comes once in it's purest form

NathanKP said...

Excellent poetry, I love the style and content.

NathanKP - Inkweaver Review

Lorenzo said...

Glad to see your back and writing away! I put a link to your blog on my page. Hope that you may return the favor. I figured if the poet's link blogs then we may all benefit from more readers. Keep up the great work.

Crowned with Laurels
A Poet's Blog

Juan Trasmonte said...

Adorei esse, Carolina. E no inglês tem uma sonoridade única.
Andei por aqui

threio said...

very nice! :)

jadedconformist said...

Love it.

Ellumbra said...

Acheiving the impossible by becoming even more delicious, the poem's conviction gently underlined, the emotional accents, exquisitely italicised by the breath - of the author's voice.

Carolina Z said...

Tim... you make it sound so nice... no, you make it sound fantastic!

Are we still talking about the same voice here? :)

T h a n k y o u. . .