A poem by ARTEMIS BABAZADEH-GITIFOROZ.
I. Prelude
There are cascades
joining
me
and the
mountains.
Cascades of beating
streets,
homes,
silhouettes
of restless
men and women
of woven sidestreets
rescued by a
wall of shadows
that from the 15th floor
resemble the hue of that restless sun.
There are cascades of
beating buildings
between the mountains
and I,
placed
marching
outwards in this basin
from the zeniths
into my bedroom.
II. Fantasie
The monochrome sky
bleeds a melody of light
for Madrid’s lighthouse to
sing. If you could
compose such dins
of pure white
you’d blanket the cascade
paving the view I masked,
between the mountains
and I
to sail these cascades of sidestreets
etched by nows
ensemble
of heaving and
calling.
Making me
wonder if their
din,
is what the sky
rose this cascade into its churning
neighbour for,
collecting thunder’s harmony
to bleed out a
beat,
for Madrid’s lighthouse
to bellow. Somebody is tearing
open this sky,
I can show you their sweat
on my window and through
my window
their sweat on all of Madrid, unhanding
booms
like veins visible
through the
skin of the elderly
guiding Madrid’s sailors
across the city between the
mountains
and I. Somebody is whipping this sky,
I can show you the crack of the whip
and over Madrid the deep wails of
their anthem;
and with their anthem
a call upon
Madrid’s sailors,
who I witnessed
bleeding white
with their beloved lighthouse over the homes of Madrid,
finding their way across the ocean of rooftops
as they sang the harmony I saw tonight between the
mountains and I.
Featured image courtesy of Artemis Babazadeh-Gitiforoz
