Live Encounters Poetry & Writing February 2024.
Love Matter, poems by Alicia Viguer-Espert.
I believe in science
one steps out of the blue
sphere of narrow perspectives,
borders disappear into dust motes
of cosmic choreography.
It’s impossible not to acknowledge
how small and equal we are
what nurtures us must feed
the planet’s rhythmic breath;
selfishness is a genetic error.
Science reveals Love’s creativity,
its oxygen causes inner revolutions,
connections filling every crack of life
behaving just like Dark Matter
that 95% of mass we cannot see.
Subtly it affects us, shapes
Galaxies, holds them in place
by a gravitational field engineered
by what we cannot understand,
To Be with You
After the Rain, the moon leaned over pale clouds,
lit the forest in such way that one could distinguish
a black hand holding a white one at the end of my sweater.
Dripping maple trees appeared vanquished, wounded.
The edges of moss swung pushed by wind
becoming undone braids.
Bundled up we approached the house,
listened to drums of rain still pounding the gutters.
It took a while for stillness to enter the hearth,
slowly the rising yeast of music invaded the room,
the stone fireplace hummed red,
I dried my hair and changed my shoes.
The space between us,
what has been loose by water
tighten by heat.
Your hands fingered my earlobes,
a butterfly searching for nectar
kissed the hollow of my neck,
my own breath reminded me of a sinking ship,
a place to go
cosmic depths of water.
I didn’t wish to drown in the slow suffocation of the ocean,
painful they say, but I envisioned,
as monks dream of paradise, paroxysm, pathological
desire to dive into waves of ecstasy,
meeting you at the Gates
of La Petite Mort.
I return to my city,
search in the cafe of La Alameda,
the young hand holding a wine glass,
his gaze distant and inward.
I return to my city
where every adolescent resembles
the one I knew so well but never knew,
nor understood the consuming flame
burning his wings of moth,
the mystery of strings
holding back his grasshopper legs
propelled by fire.
I return to my city,
cross a whole ocean to hear
his voice in the evening news,
a local station discussing his work,
those documentaries of life in Africa,
savannah, desert, lakes, wilderness,
his love for open skies, and I remember
exactly when those fraying strings were cut
on that summer night
when I said, I couldn’t be sure,
perhaps it wasn’t love, but plain desire,
and he said, desire is never plain.
© Alicia Viguer-Espert
Alicia Viguer-Espert, born and raised in the Mediterranean city of Valencia, Spain, lives in Los Angeles. A three times Pushcart nominee, she has been published in Lummox Anthologies, Altadena Poetry Review, ZZyZx, Panoply, Rhyvers, River Paw Press, Amethyst Review, Odyseey.pm, and Live Encounters among others. Her chapbooks To Hold a Hummingbird, Out of the Blue Womb of the Sea and 4 in 1, focus on language, identity, home, nature, and soul. In addition to national and international publications, she is included in “Top 39 L.A. Poets of 2017,” “Ten Poets to Watch in 2018,” and “Bards of Southern California: Top 30 poets,” by Spectrum.