Barcelona in my Dreams

Come walk with me along the streets
of Barcelona in my dreams
one rainy April day when I arrived
beneath the Fabergé-egg domes
of the Museu del Toro;
between the gridiron blocks of Eixample
with Gaudi’s masterpiece
crowning the distance, come
and lose yourself among these streets
with me.

Take hands with me and walk along the beach
of Barcelona in my dreams
the strand of manmade sand
where I washed up
an alien
upon the shores of the Mediterranean:
bewildered almost-tourist
struggling to decipher
packets of cereal
and washing powder.

Let’s sail around the port with Las Golondrinas
but not venture out
into the open water
dreaming of Las Islas Baleares:
Menorca, Ibiza, Mallorca
away from party-goers,
hid away from Las Ramblas
in secret streets
where revolution played out
heralding the Civil War.

Seek sanctuary within the walls
of old
Santa Maria del Mar
her gothic splendour laid bare by
the fires of Anarchists;
see Gaudi’s dreams in her high arches’ spanned then
pause and say a prayer
and light a candle in remembrance
of
our sacred hour.

In the Parc de la Ciutadella let us walk
under the palms
where once the loathèd citadel stood tall
imposing rules
of the outsider
on a population chained
yet free in mind
to dream new dreams, Art-deco forms and frescoes
dreams to come
and dreams which I must leave behind.

In Barceloneta let’s enjoy catch-of-the-day
in La Cova Fumada
brought to shore
this very morning by
brave fishermen who waded through
the piss and puke of tourists
to sell their wares
while visitors
slept off their hangovers
behind dim darkened doors

Walk hand in hand with me
along the broad streets of
Passeig de Gracia:
La Manzana de la Discordia;
Casa Batlló – The House of Bones
which sleeps beneath a serpent’s skin
or La Pedrera where
we play chess on the rooftops
for each other’s souls and
wonder who will win?

The heavenly jury still in recess
holds out on this point
gods toy with us
we wander shipwrecked shores
and yet I know
there is a fair wind and
a wave to lead me back
Adéu, Adijo, Adiós:
one universal language we all speak.

© Experimentsinfiction 2021, All Rights Reserved

This is my love letter to Barcelona

It’s a bit of a big and baggy monster, so please take it as a work in progress. I’m not used to writing long-form poetry, and this needs some tidying up. Nevertheless, it’s good to get some of these images out of my head and into writing. I am posting for dVerse, where Grace is hosting and has asked us to write about setting:

The writing challenge: Bring us to a time and place in your poem. Give us the smells, sights and sounds of your setting. Note that settings can be real or fictional, or a combination of both real and fictional elements.

We came to Barcelona in April of 2016, and we left in February of 2019. I’ve never been back since and I don’t think I’ve ever gotten over it. The city gets under your skin. Ironically, when I came to Barcelona, I found myself missing London. I’m definitely over London now (though I’d still like to visit) but Barcelona, I don’t think I ever will be…