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Poetry in motion, Greta in Mississippi

Greta Bellamacina takes us on a poetic journey of the deep, American South



Hailing from North American roots originally, we wanted to do something to celebrate Independence Day here at Rêve En Vert. Young poet, and one of our muses, Greta Bellamacina recently shared some of her favourite books with us, and in honour of the 4th of July we have decided to share two poems she wrote while driving through the Mississippi delta. She wrote Solitary Road and Delta Highway on her road-trip through the south and we’ve paired them up with some of the photos she took along the way.




Grace these tracks, a fraction to this thousand road,

The title before the song, the map before the street

That outlived the avowal lungs.


These timelines circle in your July-palm

To answer your prayers, they are a lifelong distant

In a span of unbrave troubles.


They go through you, blowing you along ness outless ness,

They will let you die there upon night soils, even when your sick of it all and Ready to accept their welcoming cheers.

I am a forgiver but still I do not know why

We do what we do, lovin’ for only a day.

And ending up in the ruins of granite of undoes and to does.


So I heard as you saw

My love gone solitude.


There is still time to turn back around,

Lie down on our cloud, and read the subtitles running through your Forehead, stooping down your blue-spoon-eye.


Grace these tracks, they leave as your hearts goes a yonder.

But this road is a way to live when you turn your head,

Buried in a pair of unimportant shoulders.


It may take a while for me to come back to this,

But then when you’re lost, the way back is always

Different, and this will be a code unreadable in the shade.


The solitary road is an old elm

A life-line and a track

Going in memoriam.







Delta Highways


There were revelations

That filled the miles.


The empty cotton fields

Were fried between 5-9.


They were growing near roads

Calling beat the clock

             Beat the clock

                                       that greedy clock.


But those cars never did stop.

America was news in Jackson, unbless you.


The Delta lived old,

As far as, to live.