
Bachanalia By Carolina Menache
Time travel bathed in tropical green grips its ground in the Nexus of tomorrow Debaucherous decadence dazzles naïve eyes That have only viewed neon lights and bright screens
Dionysus is dead center A patron saint amidst santos Opaque marble pulsating in vino
Reality fades through stained glass where glass once chimed A mischief only moguls were allowed to seek, Now experienced by underage teens sliding fraudulent ID’s
Hedonism reverberates through the pulse of the once obscure Miami Its heart nestled in a green grove Immutable in time

V.By Arina Polyanskaya
A mansion built of limestone (A little too lavish for the face of Miami) Proudly gazing into the gleaming ocean. Waiting for The man who collected enshrined objects As Ikea sale items for the villa, Desiring his blood to turn blue. That man is long gone.
All that is left are the dusty beds That haven’t felt a touch for eternal years, Wallpapers from the overseas That were eaten by the salt in the air, And countless dark mirrors, They forgot how to reflect.
All I see now are The young girls, soon to be women, Sinking in heavy dresses, Decorated with rhinestones and fluffy tulles, Masquerading the queens of the castle. I hear the tourists continuously photographing, Wiping sweat beads off their foreheads And speaking foreign languages, (Probably, complaining about the burning Floridian sun).
Tell me Spanish villa, Where will time take you next?

The GardenBy Natalia Andino
One could almost think That even in such a serene escape such as the garden With her gentle scent of lavender, Her faint droplets falling into the pond And her robins singing between the pines That there is still so much vulgar in the world As people wail with tears on their cheeks Their stomachs aching from lack of bread Clothed in nothing but filthy shreds Homelessness… and suffering… How? How could this be? How could we build a safer world? One with ease and humbleness So that there will be an end to war And we could all be in peace? Even unity..? Maybe? It almost seems unimaginable. However, the garden reminds us that the world is not all evil That even with her frailest flowers And her humming bumblebees No task is ever too little To build a pure home like the garden
The Vizcaya Poems by Poetry Art Community
The Frog Fountain Poems
The Secret Garden Poems
The Center Island Poems
The Grotto Poems
The West Pool Poems
BACK TO POETRY ART COMMUNITY FALL 2017 AT VIZCAYA
AUTHOR(S) AND LAST UPDATE John William Bailly & Stephanie Sepúlveda 10 November 2017
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