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:
Numbers are gold
They measure the silence
of centuries
and never pin down
to feeling.
Put Love in a number
It would be 0, 1 or 10.
Put Hate in a number
It would be seven.
Numbers follow
the horizon
and leave us alone
with even, naught and odd.
Numbers are perfect
They order the chaos of galaxies
and split away fear.
Inspired by Mick E Talbot.
Art by Remedios Varo Uranga.
We are the only people
in the world
and we hold
the keys to all
gardens and dungeons
beneath a wall…
We live on
Moon’s compassionate light
and greenish profoundness
of Spring.
We may not die
but if we do
your smile will freeze
the light blue
in my eye
and shovel back the trench
to where I quench
my thirst for throbbing hearts
and burning dreams
deposited in chests
that heave entwined.
Art by Ivan Avgustovich Veltz.
2017.The Year of the Lovely Stories and Lovely Encounters
Few moons back and many brighter days, the amazing BE KITSCHIG– BE NICE! BE GREEN! BE KITSHIG! has nominated my blog for the One Lovely Blog Award.
BE KITSCHIG is a lovely & shimmering foundation for glamorous, glittery stories and quotes you cannot help but LOVE! Here is one: “In difficult times, fashion is always outrageous!” We have some things in common: I am green and glittery.
My mind is now full of apologies as I let time pass before writing this happy post to thank the Lovely BE KITSCHIG for this nomination. All the people behind their amazing blogs and crafty words are lovely and wonderful. All they write is a betrayal of the beauty in our souls that enlightens and creates happiness.
I would like to nominate everybody for their lovely, lovely words and feelings, as all the people that I have met here have touched my soul and changed something in me. I have learned a lot and become more than I ever thought I could be.
These are the lovely nominees and please remember that everybody is invited to this “moveable feast”.
Please note you are under no obligation by my nominating you. This is just a token of my appreciation for your amazing work and words.
https://randomrantsruminationsramblings.wordpress.com/
https://daisymae2017.wordpress.com/
https://hillsofherchastity.wordpress.com/
https://yassy66.wordpress.com/
https://ebayism.wordpress.com/
https://sweetdevil69.wordpress.com/
https://territoridel900.wordpress.com/
https://earthpages.wordpress.com/
https://inspiresn.wordpress.com/
The rules:
And my trivialities:
I was born under the star sign of Gemini, so there are two people inside me: one Before Coffee and one After Coffee.
I used to have five wisdom teeth, all of them popping up at the same time. After this, whenever I was trying to impress my audience with some straightforward words of wisdom, they said that maybe it was not such a good idea to take the fifth one out.
I wear 40 for footwear (9.5 US size) and 41 for roller skates (and I am not that tall). Some simpletons might say I don’t need skis. I don’t. I only have cross-country skis, which are supposed to be longer, and I couldn’t possibly beat this.
Everything can be solved after (or during) a ride in the park with my lovely bicycle. Most of my poetry has been written there.
Music must have been the food of the Gods. Being humble and an earthling, I just try to live on music and eat as little as possible. When feeling hungry as hell, I can see the huge gap between us and the Gods.
The greatest fun is to laugh at myself with some “randomly” carefully chosen earthlings. I have yet to find better jokes or better humor than the real-life humor of the clumsiest green scatterbrain-nice person.
Love is the fifth season
It starts in March
With shines of longer days,
guarding the waters more.
It moves along with
greens and joys of May.
It flourishes above the lilacs
And with you I sleep
Amidst lilies-of-the-valley…
It drifts down July dusks
Colored in bluish touches.
……………………………………………
October is the beginning of times
Cutting edges and bringing back
Memories of youth.
Now it is the season to embrace
The truth…
This is an old poem from year 2015.
Art by Viktor Vasnetsov.
If I feel depleted
Why should I breathe a name
That carves chunks of my heart
At night
And pending mornings
Sticks them
With meager liquid
That flows
In the deep
Of the dark
side of your
Quivering moon…
Art – Midsummer Night near Vejle Fjord by Harald Slott-Møller.
When I’m not in the right place
I take a step
look into the heart
of a stone
cloud
moonbeam
memory
and get drunk
with the shades
of night’s wish
to light the world…
© Iulia Halatz
Art by Hans Dieter.
The heart has a puzzling shape
The moment you thought it broke
Becomes twofold.
The moment in a relinquishing evening
You thought it whole
It breaks
Until the morning
When the shape is restored
And your feelings pour like early April rain
Over thirsty lilacs…
“The heart is an organ of fire” –Michael Ondaatje
It flickers and lights the embers of any glib desire.
Art by Georg Janny.
Her skin is like fire
her breath, distant desire
Flowers meet
for their annual feast
any time you kiss
her meatiness white…
Her hair comes from the stars
a supernova dust
it shines and coils
and transports
all of you
in a magic land…
Where seas are soft and wild
Winds blow
Of unknown stories
That paint and burn
Sounds
On your skin
That rekindle
Every time
She moves in sight…
Art by Julia Gabrielov.
I long for a dream,
within a dream
that clears the sight
of you.
I am asleep and asleep
I feel nothing
But the craddle of your arms
like orange snakes
thrashing fears around…
Black and white tale
Shall that be…
Every night a little dream
in the dead of sleep
in the depth of you…
………………………………..
Words spatter lights
in pools.
Do not squander their yellow glare
To guard you through winter…
Art – Ivan Volkov, Tatiana Larina’s Dream from Pushkin’s ‘Eugene Onegin’, 1891.
This is an old poem from 2015.