Two poems by Romana Iorga

Poem for a Green Bottle and a Candle Held Together with Tape

Who has ever seen darkness

glowing from inside?  

Glass giving in to flame?  Who

has ever seen my reflection

in the green waves?

Wax drips on cold, sinuous

curves.             This is not

one of Magritte’s bottles,

lined up for execution.

Its candle doesn’t burn

for a dead or lost soul.

It’s a simple green bottle.  

I am simple and green.

It holds its fruit that will slowly

die out.  I hold mine

that is quickly growing.

It’s strange how beauty

can be put together

with a piece of tape.

Behind the glass wall,

the homunculus spins

faster and faster.

*****************************************

Halloweening

I open my window

for the skeleton of the night.

The darkness breathes.

It is dense like oil.

From afar you call me again,

waiting to see how soon,

how close I will come,

how unbearably sweet my mouth

will bite your neck under

the open collar.

Each morning I wake with blood

stuck to my lips.

The skies are loud.

Hoarse, raucous sounds

choke on themselves,

burn their way

through the night.

Birds fall on the ground

with their breastbones shattered.

My wings are high and wet,

newly born, my eyes—

yellow, wise.

Tonight I might fly higher

than recommended.

Author bio: 

Romana Iorga is a Romanian-American writer living in Virginia.  She has previously published two collections of poetry in her native language,  is a graduate of the University of Minnesota creative writing program and is currently teaching high school English at Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology.