After Remedios Varo’s Embroidering the Earth’s Mantle
A dissonant note rises
Under deft fingers,
two figures hide
in the folds
of the cloth,
woven in an embrace,
stitch by stitch,
she rehearses her own flight.
She hasn’t met him yet,
what he looks like.
Wasn’t he tailor-made,
stitch by stitch,
to fit her needs?
Furtively, they fall
head upside down,
in a cascade of fabric,
the slit windows,
disappear into the landscape.
Frame your lover’s smile
hang it on a wall
or over the mantle
light the fireplace
stare at the empty spaces
left by dancing shadows
see them rise in a mural
in monochrome rainbows
with dissonant colors
The patient’s black leather jacket was thrown on a chair. When I hung it in the closet, I found, bulging in one of the pockets, more than a thousand dollars he must have forgotten about because when I handed them to him he acted as though I was giving him a gift.
And why would I ever do that, I wondered, but had no time to reflect since he was getting ready for surgery and became my elderly neighbor to whom I had been a source of solace in the East wing of that hospital that looked like an underground shelter.
Or Why Does She Paint a Virtual Space for Silent Words?
Sometimes she slips into folds of lavender hues, curls into daydreams; her open palm holds ashes of words unsaid, their symphony in gray minor fades away with every brushstroke dipped in desert sand, awakening dunes pregnant with gypsum roses now piled up on rice paper steeped with sunshine, to color her ochre song. Sepias warm her heart as she carefully adds a drop of dew, mend its invisible holes, softens the contours of rebellious shapes and desires.
Oblivious of the passing of time, she enters a virtual space pregnant with silent words, watches the reflection of shadows dance over the walls of a resounding cavern while words break into syllables, phonemes morph into motes floating in the void, yes, her brush acquiesces, moving faster, yes, here lies the source of forgotten signs melting into shades of colors speaking only to her as she witnesses the birth of a new language.
Works from Author
Hedy Habra is the author of two poetry collections, Under Brushstrokes, and Tea in
Heliopolis, winner of the 2014 USA Best Book Award for Poetry and finalist for the
International Poetry Book Award. Her collection of short fiction, Flying Carpets, won the
2013 Arab American National Book Award’s Honorable Mention, and was finalist for
the 2014 USA Best Book Award and the Eric Hoffer Book Award. She is the recipient of
the Nazim Hikmet Award. Her multilingual work is featured in Cimarron Review, Bitter
Oleander, Blue Fifth Review, Cider Press Review, Diode, Drunken Boat, New York
Quarterly, Nimrod, Mizna, Verse Daily, Poet Lore, World Literature Today and
elsewhere. She has poems forthcoming in Fifth Wednesday Journal and Gargoyle. She
has a passion for painting and teaches Spanish at Western Michigan University. Her
website is HedyHabra.com