reading

A Cinnamon Afternoon is a collection of 144 poems that introduces the reader to a surreal world, that exists intertwined with our mundane, casual world, where everything is interconnected and exists simultaneously as reality and also as imagination.

Visions, contemplative states, delightful incursions in the lands where everything exists as sweet baked goodies, created and induced with the help of contemporary free-form poetry, keep the reader wanting to read more, so he can dwell again and again in the dimension where everything is just a fantasy seen from the corner of the eye. Add romance, out of time perceptions, surrealism, and mystery and you’ll start to get an idea on how this book unfolds, page after page.

The book manages to create that atmosphere where maturity and child-like play are blending together, projecting the reader in a timeless dimension, right in his living room, guiding him through a series of joyful adventures where the imaginative mind plays its strongest point. Envisioning real-life situations through playful and often surreal eyes brings that coziness and heart mending space, where the reader feels the warmth of his serene self coming back as if a thousand pieces of his soul are forming the big puzzle, again.

In just a few words, the book can be described as a poetic journey into an imaginary cinnamon world that we all wish for, in our innermost cherished dreams.

A Cinnamon Afternoon

by 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.

29.

the semiopaque drapes at my windows
reveal a sunny space
in my room
where I can feel
the distant warmth
of our beloved golden sphere.
the yellow and dense energy
radiating the multicolored rays of light
makes me feel
like I’m in a new place,
that changes
with every season.
even the carpets
have become somewhat alive,
displaying shiny patches of light
on the floors,
reminding me of the simple geometry
of squares.
my heart is at peace
in an almost timeless day
where summer decided to visit me,
all of a sudden.

30.

little spoon in my cup,
cubes of brown sugar
sweeten my soul
as I prepare my early morning
coffee.
it is now almost 7 am
and this has always been
one of my favorite
occupations;
resting silently on my kitchen chair,
looking over the window
the little spoon in my cup
is reminding me of the coldness,
of the spring’s water
in a winter
where snow has forgotten
to fall
and trees are asleep
dreaming of squirrels and the sun.
I rejoice in the warmth
of a fresh new day,
in the coziness of my home,
where little chirping birds
have just woke up in my garden
to enjoy the golden sun
in the winter’s crisp sky.

31.

in this sun-kissed afternoon
my cold wooden floors
and the white drapes in the wind
make a quiet house
somewhere, at the end
of a bustling city.
crumbles of biscuits,
are spread on my kitchen floor
since yesterday,
when you were my only
beloved guest.
now everything is silent and
not even the dog is barking
in an almost surreal day,
of blue skies
and occasional clouds;
it seems to me like a place
from the end of the world
where everything seemed to be
forgotten
and timeless.

32.

sitting at my wooden desk
I’m thinking of the so many possibilities
that can happen,
in my future novel.
I’m drawing random sketches
on the white papers
that lie in front of me,
and my pencil has become tired
of the flow of thoughts
that filled the blue horizon
of my mind.
I am now resting quietly,
sipping on my coffee
unlearning all the things
that might happen
on a sunny afternoon.

33.

an old carbon paper
next to my typewriter
and a coffee mug
that tasted most of my croissants
rest on the wooden table,
where a few of my manuscripts
await quietly,
for some important person
to read them
in the future
that might never come.
the glasses on the table
know about all my characters
and all their intricate lives,
that are unfolding
between
the white papers of my notebooks;
in a sudden twist of inspiration,
I’m dreaming
of chocolate and red roses,
envisioning a romantic story
where we are celebrating love,
at this small cafe,
on Hillsbury Street.

34.

relaxed afternoon
soft jeans, denim blue
and my cat
that purrs undisturbed
in her basket.
I don’t want to do anything
for at least five minutes,
so I’m just resting
in the pure awareness of the mellow afternoon
where the smell of fresh clothes,
enters my slightly open windows.
the world is full of possibilities
that arise every second
and I’m too rich now
to know which one to pick.

35.

I rise like a tide
and fall again,
in endless
repeating
movements.
my life is like that
and the cozy room
filled with the afternoon’s sunbeams,
inspires me to draw a painting,
for each unique day
that passes under the sun.

36.

the soft cream and orange carpets
dressing my hallway
always capture a patch of sun,
in the afternoon,
at about 2 o’clock
and I am writing in the kitchen,
that which would be
my greatest novel, so far.
the silence allows my inspiration
to dress my worlds
in red, blue and indigo colors,
so any reader
would feel
the sugar and warmth
of the future days
that they have yet to witness
in my forthcoming novel.

37.

a Sunday morning,
with dew
on grass blades,
is complemented
by the rising scent of roasted coffee
coming from the old pot
that rests quietly
on my kitchen's cupboard.
a yellow patch of light
lingers on
for a few minutes
on my orange drapes
before moving away,
in a slow and undisturbed fashion.
today,
all my dusty furniture
and paintings on the walls
remember me
of all the cozy days,
that we spent together,
in this house
where love
has always been
a gift
from the unseen Gods.

38.

the dark coffee
and the caramel sweets
are sitting on my table
in the corner of the room
where I found the quietest place
in this cozy bar
where I usually like to go
almost every day.
it’s past 9 AM
and a rather sunny day
with clear blue skies
dawns upon the people
walking outside
in their winter coats.

Foreword

A Cinnamon Afternoon

by Adrian Tanase