Category Archives: Medium.com

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…

© Iulia Halatz

Also featured at Medium.com/ Poetry’s Home

Photo by me, taken on Zakynthos island.

The Serpent Slayer

She quit pretending she needs a hero.
She is her hero
Her own sun and stars.
She is her sunset above the sea
She is her moon in late twilights
She is her words making pools of smiles
For whom she adores.

She is the serpent slayer
and every day is a day of thunder and love.

Thank you for reading!

© Iulia Halatz
Co-author of Anthology Volume I: Writings from the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective, available on Amazon and Kindle.

Art — Water snakes by Gustav Klimt. Source — Pinterest

Whatever

Whatever I consider important
The trees don’t care.

Wherever I shed my tears
The flowers don’t know.

Some days have the glitter of butterflies’ wings
Some glint like the fires of Mordor.
Some have the clear shine of truth
Drifting away…
Some the warmth of
a broken heart
Who died
And became Art.

© Iulia Halatz

Art – Wolfgang Harms. Source: Pinterest

Wolfgang Harms

Featured at Medium.com.

Medium editor

Thank you to all the writers, the readers, the followers, and to all our angel bees who are helping us to spread the contributions outside of Medium within different Facebook and Quora groups.

Blue Insights Medium Publication Editors
(Ivette Cruz, Gurpreet Dhariwal, Iulia Halatz, Maii, MDSHall, Isaiah McCall, Victoria Ponte)

https://medium.com/blueinsight/grateful-for-our-team-of-angel-bees-56f046b2fb37


Photo by George Hiles on Unsplash

Writing

Writing is
quieting the burns
from people’s thoughts and deeds
And dissolving
all knowledge
that this will
ever happen…

© Iulia Halatz

In response to to the Medium/Blue Insights Cultural Prompt for April 2021 “Being Human”

Art by Andrea Kowch.
SOURCE – Facebook

Winter Glass

Up the arduous sky
The wind made powder
of tinted clouds
Whose dreams of winter
endure too long
in the realm.

Cold has gone cool
with wings of white doves
beating
the thin brisk air
to keep the snowdust
at bay.

© Iulia Halatz

Art — Phillip Koch. Source — Pinterest


Also featured at Medium.

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.

At a Solemn Musick

At a Solemn Musick
by Delmore Schwartz

Let the musicians begin,
Let every instrument awaken and instruct us
In love’s willing river and love’s dear discipline:
We wait, silent, in consent and in the penance
Of patience, awaiting the serene exaltation
Which is the liberation and conclusion of expiation.

Now may the chief musician say:
“Lust and emulation have dwelt amoung us
Like barbarous kings: have conquered us:
Have inhabited our hearts: devoured and ravished
—With the savage greed and avarice of fire—
The substance of pity and compassion.”

Now may all the players play:
“The river of the morning, the morning of the river
Flow out of the splendor of the tenderness of surrender.”

Now may the chief musician say:
“Nothing is more important than summer.”

And now the entire choir shall chant:
“How often the astonished heart,
Beholding the laurel,
Remembers the dead,
And the enchanted absolute,
Snow’s kingdom, sleep’s dominion.”

Then shall the chief musician declare:
“The phoenix is the meaning of the fruit,
Until the dream is knowledge and knowledge is a dream.”

And then, once again, the entire choir shall cry, in passionate unity,
Singing and celebrating love and love’s victory,
Ascending and descending the heights of assent, climbing and chanting triumphantly:
Before the morning was, you were:
Before the snow shone,
And the light sang, and the stone,
Abiding, rode the fullness or endured the emptiness,
You were: you were alone.

Delmore’s words have the clarity of diamonds and their sharpness. They cut deep in hearts.
I remember his words with my heart and not with my mind.
Consequently, the heart becomes the organ of knowledge and truths.

He inspired me to write “All Roads Lead to Rome”

“All words lead to Love
And the poetry in the afterLove

I wish I wrote poems
For the dreamers of barren lands.
They do not go to Rome
They go to places
That cannot be.
………………….
From a Good Place
Where joy is an illumination
To the Place that Cannot Be
They would have worn
The silver claw
of the Moon
above their heads
nightly
daily
musingly
vibrantly…”

Art – John William Waterhouse – Flora and the Zephyrs, 1898

Also featured at Medium.com.