Tag Archives: author

Fibonacci’s greed

Numberless thoughts

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.

© Iulia Halatz
Coauthor of Anthology Volume I: Writings from the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective, available on Amazon and Kindle.
Thank you for reading!

Art – Remedios Varo Uranga. Source: Facebook
Featured at Medium/ Blue Insights.

Six Words for Spring

Moon falls down on pink magnolias.

This is written in response to THE LITERARY IMPULSE CHALLENGE.

https://medium.com/literary-impulse/uncommon-fiction-forms-1798cfe4e4fe

© Iulia Halatz
From Anthology Volume I: Writings from the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective, available on Amazon and Kindle.
Thank you for reading!

Art – Guram Khetsuriani, Georgian contemporary artist. Source: Facebook

On Winter Leave

My latest at Blue Insights, a Medium publication

Today I am on winter leave
As my soul is too heavy
with all the snowdrops,
violets and perfumes of spring…

Your heart is wondrous
and alone
till you find me
aching for lilies of the valley.

© Iulia Halatz
Thank you for reading!

Art — Julius von Klever. Source: Pinterest

Loving

He is fairer than Spring,
Wiser than my unread library,
Tenderer than a feather
in the newly-stirred autumn wind.

“I tell you, the more I think it over, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”
Vincent Van Gogh

© Iulia Halatz
Co-author of Anthology Volume I: Writings from the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective, available on Amazon and Kindle.
Thank you, Ivette, for publishing my story!

Also featured at Poetry’s Home, a Medium publication.

Art – — Vincent van Gogh. Source: Pinterest

The Moon and the Sixpence

“Who are you, Martin Eden? he demanded of himself in the looking-glass, that night when he got back to his room. He gazed at himself long and curiously. Who are you? What are you? Where do you belong?” – Jack London (Martin Eden)

You belong with the legions of toil that must grub in the dirt for the sixpence. You belong with the legions that dare lift their eyes to contemplate the moon to substitute food for the dance of imagination. You belong with the vulgar and with the spirited being what carries the tinge of heaven in a smile.

You belong with all that is hard, low and unbeautiful, yet you dare live with the stars and make stardust trails. You belong by rights with the legions of strive, nevertheless in one corner of the mind there is an inverted eye that yearns for the lunarian shape-shifting beauty.

You belong by rights to creativity and labor. Creativity is vision or as Samuel Butler vanguardly put (almost two centuries ago): “When a man is in doubt about this or that in his writing, it will often guide him if he asks himself how it will tell a hundred years hence.”

Creativity is strategy. Strategy must vary as does the moon.

We are not so busy looking at the moon that we do not see the sixpence at our feet. Nor are we so engulfed in drudge that we do not see the sky. We’d better see the moon and the sixpence all at once. Our dreams and our toils should answer all our questions in the change of crescents to vanishing waning moons.

© Iulia Halatz

Art by Inma Gonzales Vazquez.

Also featured at Literary Impulse, a Medium publication.

The Sun Also Rises

The sun also rises
The fields also green
The stories are told
and hold
hearts in hands.

We survive and desire
The Moon to be ours
The Dreams to dawn true
The Time to stand and wait still
for sorrows to burn
in hollow trees
whose dead leaves endure
to give birth
To daffodils…

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

Art – William Samuel Schwartz — “The Last Rays”. Source: Facebook


Featured at Medium.com.

Writers of the Imperfect Maps

Medium.com has published my “Writers of the Imperfect Maps” in the Blue Insights publication.
https://medium.com/blueinsight/writers-of-the-imperfect-maps-276a2ce16869

The naiads have splurged with roses.
Swirls of scented air hover above their clearings.
Without petals and stars they cannot dwell
beneath the glass shine…
Day dreamers see their unfading beauty
in the sands of the fountains.

Their love is
imprecise
built on a foundation
of unicorn-green grass…

Their skeleton
is composed of myrtle and oleander
and moss-covered lungs
heave along with waters driven
by tide…

Their flesh is irrational atoms
that laugh the blood
and rhythm of life
in the veins
that sing the helplessness blues.
White hymnal doors
flung open
on Midsummer’s Eve
at the harvest of ripe and lofty words
and lady’s bedstraw
they found
in the flicker of buried treasures.

Their words shield
the scent of a tuberose
and shelter
the spoils of the evening.

They sing in the wind
“Leave this war with me!”
It is never too late
nor too soon
to wager
on a tear.

These are no Great Songs of indifference
They are the Great Songs of out-of-time
and out-of-life
that light
this new dominion
which is the old…

29 petals of all the flowers
in the world
line up to write a map
draw sounds and borders
in as many secret alphabets
as breathing proof that

Language is not like the sun,
heating and scorching
but like the moon
keeping secrets
and the arcane magic of the night
throwing stars
in the lilacs’ claws
till dawn.

Words are lamps
they shimmer in the vilest of places.
They make dreams
out of particles and matter.
The words in the
29 secret alphabets
burn for all.

© Iulia Halatz

Lilian Gish, 1929 — photo by Cecil Beaton

Vanlifer of the Heart

Vanlifer of the Heart at Medium.com

WRITTEN BY
Iulia Halatz

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.

https://medium.com/intricate-intimacies/vanlifer-of-the-heart-80daab4d2d08

Edvard Munch – Love and Pain, 1895

Happiness at Medium.com

I am dreaming about a new book…
Writing for the Anthology Volume I: Writings from the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective transported me to another realm, where the moon lights the day, and the sun is always beyond the horizon.

“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.”
– From my latest poem at medium.com/resistance poetry:
https://medium.com/resistance-poetry/happiness-481754d191e7

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.

Fold your life in two

Fold your life in two. Where are you? What are you doing?

I am a struggling starving student, in between graduation and my postgraduate exams (I followed the postgraduate courses of English Methodology and language teaching).
I am all alone in the big city trying to make ends meet. I am studying for my finals and gathering information for completing my degree. I spend my days torn between work and the fascination of libraries (for the past month I have been “dwelling” in the impressive Library of the Romanian Academy).

Between the covers of my thesis I have put two most loved topics, Greek Mythology and the Victorian writers and molded them into “Gods in Exile”. The banishment of the Greek gods from the dreamy and adorned Victorian poems by Alfred Lord Tennyson, Robert Browning, Elisabeth Barret Browning, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, was an exciting and extremely exotic journey:
“I have been here before, But when or how I cannot tell: I know the grass beyond the door, The sweet keen smell, The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.” – Dante Gabriel Rossetti
during which I heard the zephyr stirring, magic windows appeared into unbreakable walls, bluer seas sang in my sleep, foamy rivers condemned me to contemplation.
But life is difficult, I am consumed with the lack of time for my studies and fatigue and of course, money is scarce. It was one of the most difficult year ever.

“Pain doesn’t destroy language: it changes it. What is difficult is not impossible. ” Anne Boyer on the articulation of pain.

“To write with the truth of pain in your mouth is gruesome poetry … You’ll have to cut out your heart with every word and show it to the world, then hope it will heal. This is how the light gets in, also the dark. To acknowledge fear, defeat, despair and pretend serenity of a lesson learned while patching up the wounds is … Life.” – From my Tyranosaurus Writing

I have always been fascinated with Dante Gabriel Rossetti, poet of words and colours.