A Cinnamon Afternoon E-Book

Adrian Tanase

• Herausgeber: Crystal Gate Publishing
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Serie: Timeless Adventures
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 59

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Welcome to A Cinnamon Afternoon, a collection of 144 free-verse poems that transports readers to a surreal world intertwined with our mundane reality. Here, the boundaries between the real and the imaginary blur, creating a tapestry where visions and contemplative states coexist with the everyday. This anthology invites you to explore lands filled with sweet baked delights and whimsical wonders. Each poem serves as a gateway to a dimension where romance, timeless perceptions, and mysteries unfold with every turn of the page. Through contemporary free-form poetry, the collection conjures an atmosphere where maturity and childlike play blend seamlessly, guiding readers through joyful adventures that ignite the imagination. Whether it's the quiet moments of reflection, the drift of a writer's thoughts into the blue horizon, or the dreams of otherworldly landscapes inspiring fantastical tales, A Cinnamon Afternoon offers a cozy retreat into the warmth of a serene, imaginative mind. This book is a poetic journey into an imaginary cinnamon world, where real-life situations are viewed through a surreal lens, creating a heart-mending space filled with the warmth and coziness of cherished dreams. Dive into this collection and let your soul piece together the puzzle of a thousand tranquil moments, page after page.

Leseprobe

A Cinnamon Afternoon

by Adrian Tanase

ISBN: 978-3-96917-511-8

© 2020 Adrian Tanase

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Author: Adrian TanaseCover: Adrian Tanase

For contact and inquiries

www.adriantanase.ro

A Cinnamon Afternoon

by Adrian Tanase

Table of Contents

1. Chapter 1 - A Surreal Day (21 poems)

2. Chapter 2 - Memories from Childhood (7 poems)

3. Chapter 3 - 3 PM (10 poems)

4. Chapter 4 - Her (35 poems)

5. Chapter 5 - At Night (13 poems)

6. Chapter 6 - Out of Time (31 poems)

7. Chapter 7 - Perceptions (27 poems)

Foreword

Welcome to "A Cinnamon Afternoon", a collection of 144 free-verse poems that transports readers to a surreal world intertwined with our mundane reality. Here, the boundaries between the real and the imaginary blur, creating a tapestry where visions and contemplative states coexist with the everyday.

This anthology invites you to explore lands filled with sweet baked delights and whimsical wonders. Each poem serves as a gateway to a dimension where romance, timeless perceptions, and mysteries unfold with every turn of the page. Through contemporary free-form poetry, the collection conjures an atmosphere where maturity and childlike play blend seamlessly, guiding readers through joyful adventures that ignite the imagination.

Whether it's the quiet moments of reflection, the drift of a writer's thoughts into the blue horizon, or the dreams of otherworldly landscapes inspiring fantastical tales, "A Cinnamon Afternoon" offers a cozy retreat into the warmth of a serene, imaginative mind.

This book is a poetic journey into an imaginary cinnamon world, where real-life situations are viewed through a surreal lens, creating a heart-mending space filled with the warmth and coziness of cherished dreams. Dive into this collection and let your soul piece together the puzzle of a thousand tranquil moments, page after page.

a surreal day

1.

seeing the surface geometry of my room is all I need to come back again to this irregularly shaped world. I am always trying to be a square, or a triangle, trying to fit, in the diversity of this world’s many planes and forms. I am sitting quietly, sipping on my coffee and hearing distant piano chords from an old jazz melody which remind me that today, I am just an irregular triangle resting on one of its sides.

2.

a surreal teapot pouring tea in my cup by itself has reminded me it’s Thursday. ginger cookies and jam laying next to cubes of sugar on my table are smiling friendly at each other. today, my dreams are out of this world as I envision myself jumping from planet to planet in a joyful dance through a universe where everything is made of cookies.

3.

introspection of December, where my soul is resting in perfect symmetry with everything around me. I am a cube, facing red triangles of love, listening to the music of a long-forgotten time, I am the clear blue ocean surrounding the pristine islands, where no one has ever set foot in centuries.

4.

an afternoon of poetry seen through the wooden fence, makes everything less visible but more insightful, as one barely sees but can feel inside and imagine in his mind, what it would be like to live a life of poetry, in a world of free verse and where the sun is always allowing a happy life in the shade, for everyone to take part in the bazaar of melancholy and little cheap things.

5.

I woke up this morning feeling light and fresh as if nothing would bother anymore my blue sky filled with pastel white clouds. you broke my soul into so many pieces, looking at me with your candid and undisturbed face, but today, all those pieces came back in the form of biscuits and gingerbread, reconstructing, like a puzzle, my life, in its absoluteness. I woke up this morning, being me, again, in a world where love has never left.

6.

my green cupboard has its own story to tell ever since I saw it, waiting for me to open it for the first time. since then, we became close friends sharing crackers, bread, and nuts, and occasionally cashew and pistachio as an exchange of our wooden and genuine love. we dream together in the afternoon, of a life of leisure, where I write books and it rejoices in my simple presence, forever, never changing form, or appearance or even age, so we can be friends and write stories side by side, in this sweet and continuous, suspended time.

7.

in your grandparents' house you look for old chairs, where old memories would sit to wait just for you. in a long-forgotten time, that big white cup of coffee and that fresh scent of apple pie are your only friends, in an empty wooden kitchen where no one has been for years. cozy and surreal is your day while looking through the kaleidoscope of times, where you can only see geometrical shapes and split images, of your golden past.

8.

a square painting of a ballerina is taking a break from a busy day at work in the silent museum just a few roads down on Kensington street. its wooden frame quiet, in its nature, is thinking about how squares are preferable to circles or even triangles, in this two dimensional world where it is living a simple and quiet life. no one has ever cleaned the dust that accumulates over time on this painting where the ballerina always dances when there’s no one around.

9.

where does my life start, and where does it end, only oranges or an apple can tell. they always enjoy being in a fruit basket, for as long as they are not desired by anyone and their sweetness and flavor spread like a silent scent in the morning. they dream about the times when they were only visitors in this world, and when no one seemed to notice their existence.

10.

the old writer came to visit us today, at our coffee shop and suddenly, the whole atmosphere changed. it is now clear to me, that his characters live a regular life, and pay their rent in universes where letters and symbols form their own time-space continuum; when he speaks, all of his worlds blend with ours, and create intricate patterns of reality and imagination, like drawings in a surrealist painting, where form always seems to change and transform. we only have here an espresso machine, where we always make free coffee and deliver a bit of scented inspiration for every person that visits us from time to time.

11.

a basket of fruits that was resting in the sunny shade, has fallen asleep to dream of the other worlds where the sky is orange and girls have violet eyes with a green fluorescent tint. the same basket of fruits is spreading a scent of forgotten lilies in the surreal attempt of becoming someday a fantasy writer