Tag Archives: Iron poetry

Pay with a poem!

Multiple facets
of benevolence, friendship and kindness
have been engraved
on my heart

whose green veins tremble
with happiness and delight
at seeing, reading and admiring
your exquisite words-of-art and flowing imagery
Here…

………………………………………………………………………

Your minds drew letters
Upon my soul
I will wear them always
To humble and subdue
All the shimmers of the world.

This is my modest “payment” for the beauty and joy you have given me through knowing you and your beautiful art and my “currency” in thanking you for reading, appreciating and sharing my words.

Iulia Halatz

I have written this for The World Poetry Day in 2017.

I am reposting in celebration of the opening of the first Poetry Pharmacy in the world – https://www.poetrypharmacy.co.uk/.

Art – Christian Schloe

I am a forest at Medium.com

My latest at Medium.com/Resistance Poetry

I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.
Friederich Nietzsche

I am a cloud, and a siege of tornadoes: but he who is not afraid of my swirl, will find banks of rainbows beneath my grey.
I am a gale, and the yearn to push boats ahaven: but he who is not afraid of my blow, will fly with the skylarks.
I am a sea, and a green of waves: but he who is not afraid of my abyss, will swim away with the mermaids.
I am the night, and the thrill of dark dreams: but he who is not afraid of my nightmares, will fall sleep with the daffodils.

© Iulia Halatz

https://medium.com/resistance-poetry/i-am-a-forest-c3250bf2991a

Morning Mist at Medium.com

Morning Mist
By Iulia Halatz

The mist that
covers my heart
is thick
numbing mornings
and evenings
with the sagacity
of a cubist artifact.

It comes in layers
clinging with fetid fingers
on to the gargoyles
of the old mansion
our love has become.

No surprise from
any shadow
No brush
with velveteen
vulnerable
acts of tenderness.

Dragons and starlings
seem nearer
in the dancey mists

Love is uncovered
in a smile
at first light…
Is that enough?

© Iulia Halatz

Photography art – Grace M.Ballentine – Morning Mist

https://medium.com/intricate-intimacies/morning-mist-ee6707059258

Iulia Halatz
She says: “Be the one who cares, make words so disruptive that they create new worlds, hopes and dreams. Even if we are unhappy dinosaurs and find shelter in an Iron Tale or ruminate about feeling too much, whilst declaring colorless apparel, we should take power and strength from our stories.”
Her published poems can be found in The Sudden Denouement Anthology Volume I.

Together

Give your heart
but to whom
Shall desire.

Allow your joy
to be received
with greatest care
and tunes of innocence.

Strengthen the bond of yourselves
but to surpass
the nameless peril
of Deception.

Name the mirror
in which you catch
the single moment
of deep, ungrateful
Love.

© Iulia Halatz

(An old story from 2017)

Art by Dani Soon.

Solemn Zeros – RamJet Poetry

Perfection in verse by RamJet Poetry:

“In summary, there was purpose
prefecture, pandemonium, permanence
fingers frayed the stitching
ignominious example in grocery-cart aisles
uncommon disorders frequently populating
the deserted isles
unexpectedly, the vase fell from the table
untouched it shattered
flowers and pottery scattered across the floor
as galaxies flowed into void…”

ramjetpoetry.wordpress.com/2018/09/30/solemn-zeros

Self Addressed Stamp Envelope – Erich Michaels

Lettered feelings to the artist as a young man by the amazing Erich Michaels

…”I wrote a letter to that young wanderer
Using my address from that time
Across the top: Erich Michaels (adolescent)

In it I said:
Yes…she will break your heart, but…
Enjoy the ride
Also, don’t block out her name
She deserves better than that
That tattoo will be a regret
Not just because it’s needle and thread
Bottle of India ink, prison-chic
But because it doesn’t represent you…”

Read all imperfect feelings written in perfect words on A Global Divergent Literary Collective: suddendenouement.com/2018/08/03/self-addressed-stamp-envelope-erich-michaels

A list of wounds

We are all broken flowers
We have seen the moon smiling
The waves crashing
The shimmer and thunder of springs
The blazing lightning of pain
When regluing the chinks in our hearts
a hundredfold again…

We have seen the tremble of a leaf
in mid-November
When it falls
and lies defeated
like giant spiky stones
we shuffle our feet on
and bleed…

How do you heal a wound?
First you burn it
in agonizing awe
Then you stitch it
with words in threads
that last
more than the last
Spring

© Iulia Halatz

Art by Vladimir Kush.

I am delighted that five of my poems were included in the Sudden Denouement Anthology Volume I. The anthology is now available on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk.

Song of Spring

Written for the Anthology Volume I: Writings from the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective.

Spring is a princess
without voice
only fingers
to mix colors
in the rainbows.

She’s got a vessel
for the softest fragrance
pressed in archives
in the Library of Scent…
There are plums
the cherries
and the blooms of vines
escalating
on the earth’s shelves…

Anyone who writes down
to Spring
is simply wasting
a leaf of scent.

No one is ever so poor
as not to write up
music
to all the shades of Spring
and to the dancing stars
to give a gift
of chaos…

© Iulia Halatz

I am delighted that this poem was included in the Sudden Denouement Anthology Volume I. The anthology is now available on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk.

Buried moon

Buried moon, buried moon
Who to talk about at noon
When dreams are plundered by light
And powdered in gold and charcoal dust.

Crescent fairies are sad in the rouse
and at falter to surmise
the scanty slumbering traces
that led stupors into trenches.

The owners of the light
Do not know its might
and the pleasure of the sun
to astound and burn above…

Buried moon, buried moon
I want you soon…

As to play my feral dreams
around the all surviving tunes!

© Iulia Halatz

(Reposting an old poem)

Art – Buried moon by Edmund Dulac.

Sun chokes the atmosphere

Sun chokes the atmosphere
Moon dies and takes
the truth and breath of you
Stars inscribe the sky
and determine
who’s alive…
What are your dreams?
Ask your heart
and put an old wish
to the slaughter.

Wild is the conspicuous green grass
that tells itself
to reach the stardust smell of spring.
Old is the key
that keeps away the chains
and charms unfathomed
to open a new gate
As you wear another’s
beating heart
melting in
and dripping of blue lust
Not knowing when
to destroy the dark
and say:
I am saving the meat
of my dreams for you!

© Iulia Halatz

Art by Konstantin Koborov.