Categories
Poetry

Poignant, passionate poetry book review of FLASHES & VERSES…BECOMING ATTRACTIONS by Adrian Ernesto Cepeda

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda’s poetry book Flashes & Verses…Becoming Attractions is a book that took me into a world of pop culture, passion, erotic love, pop icons, and Latin love. I enjoyed this collection, this array of poems that narrates diverse stories of common themes; namely, how love, romance, and ideology affects our daily struggles.

Cepeda’s romantic language and images leave you wanting more and more. This is a poignant, passionate, poetry book that is long overdue. If you love to read Neruda, this is the book for you. From rock to the brat pack, to pop music, music is a theme throughout the book. Cepeda has many muses, but you can tell the heart of this book lies in the spiritual connection the poet has with human beings, whether they are pop icons or his first lover, the attractions are the love and bond of human emotion and desire.

“We Couldn’t Even Afford To Go Inside” is one of my favorite’s in the book. A poem about an old lover, a connection that is hard to replace or feel again, a nostalgia of a past love affair. I folded way too many pages in the book, but a few more of my favorites: the sexy “Hotel Room,” “She Pours Me with Her Eyes,” “Book Like My Woman,” and of course the ode to Jim, “Stoned Immaculate: Jim Morrison Lies Here.”

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda’s poetry has been featured in over one-hundred different publications. One of his poems was named the winner of Subterranean Blue Poetry’s 2016 “The Children of Orpheus” Anthology Contest and two of his poems, “Buzz Me” and “Estranged Fruit” were nominated for Best of the Net in 2015 and 2016. You can connect with Adrian on his website:  click here to visit his website

You can purchase his book here and other bookstores:Flashes & Verses…Becoming Attractions published by Unsolicited Press

Adrian can be found on Twiter @PoetNotRockStar

Facebook and Instagram.

Categories
Poetry

life

Categories
Poetry

Stay beautiful and strong

Featured Image -- 6242Stay beautiful and strong

when others try to break

your soul, it’s not you

they want, it’s your beauty and art.

Some people create friendships

to bully you, steal your man,

betray your wife. Some people

want to catch you weak

and vulnerable to spread it

on the evening news. The

only way to love is by blocking off

negative energy

focus on your art.

People will either love you

or hate you

and if you are really talented

if you have a gift

they hate you even more.

It’s too easy to kill a spirit these days

with group chats instead of mobs

with tweets instead of telephone wires.

It is as if people have lost the ability

to be compassionate

and only care for attention

seeking out the evil

perpetuating hatred

jealousy through harassment.

The sad part is most of these

people I have witnessed doing this

are women. If you want to get your

power back, this is not the way

to do it. It sickens me. And for this

my heart gets broken

I feel too much and I would rather

not.

Categories
Poetry

From Love & Vodka, a book of poetry for glass hearts

I see the beauty in you and the darkness. Both are brilliant.

-third eye


my book is available at all on-line bookstores

9.99 at Amazon now, limited time offer

Categories
Poetry

International Women’s Day

To the beautiful women who I read and who inspire me daily, thank you. I admire your strength through words and images. Celebrate being a woman and surround yourself with people who love you and encourage you. Kick toxicity out. Bring in love and acceptance.

If you know anything about me then you know that I read and write daily. I find the poets who I have read for decades are always the ones who inspire me, but some modern poets are breaking through into my heart. I am picky and critical when it comes to poetry, I am in love with the ideals behind it and less with the stigma of it. I have discovered some phenomenal women poets who have inspired me lately, Sharon Olds, Joumana Haddad, Mary Oliver, Dorothea Lasky, Clementine Von Radics, Sarah Howe, Lang Leav, Natasha Head, Warsan Shire, Sarah Kay, Yrsa Daley-Ward, Amber Tamblyn, Melissa Bull, Julie Bruck, April Green, Rupi Kaur, to name a few whose poetry books I connected with on a humane and spiritual level.

Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment as to the women who inspire you.

Categories
Poetry

Chapbook

Hello my dear readers & writers,

I am severing ties with my publishers and hence have to sell my chapbook old school. You can dm me on social media

Facebook, Twitter or Instagram

and I will sign & mail you a copy of my limited edition chapbook.

I appreciate your support for poetry and my work. I never thought I would ever publish my work. I thought my notebooks would just pile up in my closet like old neglected clothes.

This chapbook would not have been possible without your belief in me. I doubt my ability every day and this is my writing process before you.

This chapbook is raw and unedited, a preview of my poetry book. These poems will not be in my poetry book.

Thank you again.

 Chrissy

Categories
Poetry

Chasing Wanderlust

The most important part of poetry

is how it makes you travel through time,

place. I have my spacesuit on ready

to touch stars. meet me at the ocean.

you’re so ridiculous, did you see i did the dishes for  you

love me now

fill up my glass

oh, how i love you now

the way you come through the door

and kiss space with two grand steps.

telling me how my beauty is so deep

even you have to dig

that’s why you love me

because every day i give you the shovel.

living and knowing you has been the best part

of my life

how could i have done anything without you?

this is my poetry

how quotes mean nothing

until i whisper them in your ear.

remember when we went to Puerto Plata

and i wore those fuck me boots

and short shorts? remember the party

in the basement with strangers

everyone grabbed our asses

we laughed and touched each other

in the back seat of the cab?

we keep on chasing wanderlust

in the front seat of sanity

with our seat belts off.

speaking foreign languages spreading love

through sand castles,

it’s the 70’s

and my foot went right into the Tupperware

when the car crashed and our necks snapped.

 

you know the grammar rules

now try to apply them

to your life.

 

 

Categories
poetry

Sixteen

There was a time in the 80’s when I was sixteen

and Michael was my everything

while I was his nothing. And even years

later every time I’d see him he pretended

i was nothing. from nothing to something.

from something to nothing. i call him an asshole

now. even my daughter knows his name. it’s not

a fucking secret how i loved him. you probably never

get over a love. and when i left or you left or whatever

happened because it’s all a blur, for the second or third

or fourth time and i ran into you on the street and you told

me to stop my car. you always wanted me back

every time I ran you ran faster. you married me

we had kids

i had red roses and an Alfred Sung gown.

Once I met a man, it was brief, maybe twenty minutes

or so, once he told me how my beauty

marked him. another time a man wrote

a book for me, he wanted my blood

as his pen. sucked me dry out of my silence.

created some Greek fucking muse of abuse

and left me with ashes on my cheeks.

It’s true that you never forget a love.

It’s true that you love your wife.

It’s morality to want it all and smoke in the hall.

i’ve lived it. you have no idea how I live.

I’m an artist and he supports my locked up frustrations.

my midnight madness

even if he isn’t one, he loves my crazy.

But you, you get all of me

in a brown package

delivered straight to your heart

and soul.

and you open me up gently.

just be sure

to not mix me up

with your other soul mates

and i will do the same.

my eyes and hair haven’t changed much

everyone says i look the same. IMG_7644

every love

is you.

Categories
poetry

Tear me

Tear me apart

rip me into pieces

throw me to the wind

and bury me with poems

no earth

no flowers

just words

in death

cover me with notes.

And this on the eve of your birthday

the time when you

left me for dead

at the steps of Aphrodite

swimming in a pool of ache.

C’mere and pull the covers off

stand tall next to my hips

and pour the earth

all over us.

I can take it all

deep

light

slow

fast.

in rhythms you’ve described

and found in dictionary meanings

it’s all been felt

before

from eras we once lived in

a thousand years ago.

remember my hues then?

they were just as devastating

for you.

Categories
poetry

Act 2