Tag Archives: love

Morning mist

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

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.

Love

“Great love is never justified. It’s like the little tree that springs up in some inexplicable fashion on the side of a cliff: where are its roots, what does it feed on, what miracle produces those green leaves?”
Wisława Szymborska (July 2, 1923–February 1, 2012), the Polish Nobel laureate

Art by Christian Birmingham.

Happiness

…Happiness is the uncle you never
knew about, who flies a single-engine plane
onto the grassy landing strip, hitchhikes
into town, and inquires at every door
until he finds you asleep midafternoon
as you so often are during the unmerciful
hours of your despair. – Jane Kenyon

Happiness is immaculate
and wordless
Happiness is the fire person
Burning for your path
Lighting like the moon
dense and bright and alive
Hoovering on the alphabet blue
of the world
Uncovering a soul into desire
Pulling out a Love
that dissolves and finishes…

Happiness is the love
carved into the bark
that kills pitfalls and
feeds the unicorn-green grass.

Happiness is a father
that lived oceanless
for a daughter to grow
tied to the oceanside.

 

Art by Hansol Choe.

To be in love

The Sea is a fickle lover
One day sweet as
honey dew
The other bitter
like sin…
that makes you
fall harder
as if hit
by a ton of bricks
made of water glass
Sincerity.

It loves you back
with ardor
You have been dissolved…
Both limbs and heart
know no more
than
liquid love
that once was only
words…

Dawn hovering over the Black Sea until the first rays break into so many winged good news:

Love

“Love. Fall in love and stay in love. Write only what you love, and love what you write. The word is love. You have to get up in the morning and write something you love, something to live for.”
Ray Bradbury (August 22, 1920 – June 5, 2012)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Art by David Wyatt.

Be like water

“You must be shapeless, formless, like water. When you pour water in a cup, it becomes the cup. When you pour water in a bottle, it becomes the bottle. When you pour water in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Water can drip and it can crash. Become like water my friend.” – Bruce Lee

In the whirlwinds of our existence we don’t look at Things… We are petrified in the rat race. When was the last time you saw the stars? A flower, the blossoming trees? Felt the wind on your face?… I have read that only 80 people on earth can remember every single day of their lives. So why should you be so angry or miserable today, when you won’t even remember Today? We probably remember the best of days that trampled upon our souls in shimmering happiness.

Be like water! Change color and flow…

There are no straight lines or sharp corners in nature. Therefore, buildings must have no straight lines or sharp corners. –Antoni Gaudi
Maybe the rumors are right, maybe Gaudi was counselled by a fairy about his high-end innovative, dream-like “curved” architecture. In this respect I am relieved and resolved to keep on talking with the fairies that at times whisper soft and pleasurable words into my ears.

Also a fairy has told me that in Love, space is curved, not straight… As Love is the most natural thing of things to feel and to flow in as if in water, smoothly and naturally spreading walls of scented charm like innocently does a plum tree. Amend the curves, give valor to them and expect nothing. Do you think the moon expects applause when it shines above dense darkness and blinking eyes in the murky forests?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Art by Vladimir Kush.

Pirate Love

Pirating love
is hunting the fields
in early May dreams
for fireflies and roses alike
to keep them barred
in jars and bottles with light
until your heart

inflames to the touch

and burns

from drinking shades of the evening

and hues of the stars

only to spark

in the dark

as source of delight

in torn summer nights…

Art by Andrea Kowch.