THREE POEMS BY APRIL MAE M. BERZA

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To love is a tragedy

To love is a tragedy,
it is to die a million times
in the arms of Aphrodite.

To love is a tragedy,
it is a surrender, a defeat
when you could have been
an oasis with me
or I could have been
an archipelago with you.

Islands, we are islands
submerged in this emotion.


We try to be one
but we are divided
by the politics of reason.

To love is a tragedy,
it is a fiasco, another fiasco
among a multitude.

* * *

Sunset is Death

Alas! The dying sun in throne
Slides down toward the horizon

Like the slumber of a baby,
At its cradle, the newborn’s glee.

For death is a rebirth today;
Carpe Diem! This is the day!

Where ev’ry setting of the sun,
A star is born, the light is gone

From a distance, a tolling bell
Almost bitter curses into hell

While the moon, child of sun’s death,
In Paradise lost, still regret.

* * *

Shakespril’s Sonnet

Travelling in the city of your bone
I map your sinews with tiny finger;
Walking in the island with passion,
The pilgrimage could have gone forever.
Tonight, my tongue has bathed you in silence,
My tongue is a pilgrim lost in your skin
Journeying eternity’s true essence
In the vacant museum I have been.
Your body is my own territory
Where your divine heart is my strong fortress;
This night I celebrate in its glory
To sail in the verse of your happiness,
Your beautiful skin is an empty farm
Where we build our dreams in each other’s arm.

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