Category Archives: Creative writing

Love in line

Love drips
out of my lines.

There is not ink
But sweetness and joy
protruding in small afternoons

befuddled
in glimpses of light
dancing on leaves
and ruby flowers…

When skies glance
at the coolness of moonshine
and butterflies kept in a dream
smile till dawn,

Do not forget…

As long as you feel
the brush of the evening’s wind
coiling like a wild animal

You are as young as
the new roses this year…

Art – Dani Soon – Source – https://dionisopunk.com/

Happy World Poetry Day!

“These verses have become a thing and one can take them off the page and throw them at a window, and the window would break. That’s what words can do!”  
― Daniil Kharms, Today I Wrote Nothing: The Selected Writings  

And a selection from my writings:

What can I give you? I am the blue
as imagined by a blind
and the roots of knowledge
as watered by a scholar.

I am the yellow
wind and the mauve
respond of light
perched
in the ubiquitous trees
tethered in the clouds
that barely scratch
the sky.

I am the green
storm and colorless waves
that wished upon a mountain
to break water in tryst
with the sun.

Not by blindness
we can reorder colors
but by the painting of a soul
in a moment tender
as the liquid moon
is quivering above the forest.

………………………………..
Knifed

I aim at dreams
knife them
as trophies on my wall.
I can always
take one down,
quench the thirst
of a turbulent wound
with
tainted endearment
from the poisoned well

We dug and drained
under the wing of
One night.
I’m in love
with a stabbed dream.

Under my skin
Rumors of thyself
move clouds upon the moon…

© Iulia Halatz

Olga Wisinger-Florian

As always, I am humbled and honored to be a Medium writer.

Steal the Sun

Steal the sun
With gilded sincerity.

Place it in your heart
with silvery fingers.

Touch lives with the same warmth.
If you do not have money to decorate your life with precious artifacts, decorate life with precious deeds and meaningful words. Words that speak to hearts and make them see the precious artifacts they are.

©Iulia Halatz

Art – Serena Malyon,The Veil of Night

Also featured at Medium.com.

A Thousand Mornings

“In Our Woods, Sometimes a Rare Music
Every spring
I hear the thrush singing
in the glowing woods
he is only passing through.
His voice is deep,
then he lifts it until it seems
to fall from the sky.
I am thrilled.
I am grateful.

Then, by the end of morning,
he’s gone, nothing but silence
out of the tree
where he rested for a night.
And this I find acceptable.
Not enough is a poor life.
But too much is, well, too much.
Imagine Verdi or Mahler
every day, all day.
It would exhaust anyone.”
Mary Oliver – A Thousand Mornings.

Art – Adele Karmazyn

My name is Green

My name is Green
100 names for Spring

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

© Iulia Halatz

Also featured at Medium/Blue Insights publication.

Art – Vincent van Gogh

Happy Mărțișor everyone!

“Mărțișor is an old tradition celebrated all over Romania every year, on March 1st.
The name Mărțișor is a diminutive of March (Martie in Romanian). It is believed that the person who wears the red and white string would enjoy a prosperous and healthy year.”

What friends?

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

© Iulia Halatz

Art – Jo March (British, b.1962)

Poetry featured at Medium/Blue Insights publication.

W. Somerset Maugham

Coffee and Somerset for me …

W. Somerset Maugham- 25 January 1874 – 16 December 1965.

Uncanny observer of human nature and my personal trainer and influencer:

“It was a night so beautiful that your soul seemed hardly able to bear the prison of the body.”

“Irony is a gift of the gods, the most subtle of all the modes of speech. It is an armour and a weapon; it is a philosophy and a perpetual entertainment; it is food for the hungry of wit and drink to those thirsting for laughter…”

“The faculty for myth is innate in the human race. It seizes with avidity upon any incidents, surprising or mysterious, in the career of those who have at all distinguished themselves from their fellows, and invents a legend to which it then attaches a fanatical belief. It is the protest of romance against the commonplace of life.”

“All the words I use in my stories can be found in the dictionary—it’s just a matter of arranging them into the right sentences.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
His stories are as simple and as beautiful as cherry blossoms in the moonlight

Art – Kaii Higashiyama, Cherry blossoms in the moonlight, 1982

Moon and Mine

“Who are you?”
I asked.

I am a piece of heaven
that reveals the most
to ones in love…

They see the sea
and the tiptoeing stars
barely touching the milky lanes.

Under constellations
Their faces glitter
with words released
yet not spoken…
They are the children
of the stars…
that take away the meaning
of twilights and dawns.

The dust of stars
speaks more
than the sun.

Iulia Halatz

Corfiot Moon by the author

Featured at Medium.com/Blue Ingsights