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.
These are the Unicorn Days
Carved in gold and diamonds
from the mountains,
Molded in solid water
from the fairies’ well
Sang in choruses
by daffodils leaning on the feathered wings
of night eastern winds,
Claimed by a broken chunk of heart
that knows no sparse amounts
of Love…
Clustered green of untamed grasses
and feral blossoming storms
in the souls of plum flowers
Rage
until the fields breathe
the 100 names for Spring
and become
The Unicorn’s envy…
Art by Vincent van Gogh.
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!
Art – Buried Moon by Edmund Dulac.
You are better than unicorns
and moonshine combined.
You are better than gossamer
and fireflies entwined.
Make sure to notice
the collateral beauty
of dreaming and dreading,
wishing and fearing,
abysses and mountains,
venom and honey
in a kiss
that numbs
and talks to my heart
about the color of a feeling.
Art by Helen Flockhart.
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.
White, blue or
crimson clear
of desperate clouds
in stirring thoughts of nights
Coalescing
in the dark
that matters not
among the larks
of mighty Spring
which sunned and bloomed
with every drop of wind…
Art by Daniel F.Gerhartz.
What is a dream
But the realization of
serene
wishes and happiness pure
prolonged and decaying
in the mere
cold, sticky and
shimmering blue
Covering
words that spoke of true
Love alive on the hills,
beaten by the winds
and slowly falling asleep
on the wings of winter.
© Iulia Halatz
Art by Emil Orlik, painter, etcher and lithographer born in Prague in 1870.
Love in the time of summer
is like blistering dreams
Starting shivers in the lonely slumber
Daunted in the arms of dead hours
flying like bats
Until dawn.
Art – Alphonse Mucha, The Moon and the Stars, 1902.
My place in the sun
is where I found
the realm
of red pansies
amid the green grass
that fancies
a stroll at dusk
under merry shrubs
of tansies.
Art by Michael and Inessa Garmash.
Greenway = a belt of parks or rural land surrounding a town or city.
I wish you for today
To go astray
In a beautiful array
Of magnificent greenway.
I have the sun
and the full moons,
The air and the water
blue.
The memories of
the sweet hills
and the crescent moon
keeping the vineyards
in bloom.
For my love
I would give
My hills
wrapped in balmy
vine flowers.
“If I can stop a heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain”. Emily Dickinson
