The night of last
was as charmed as the lust
for balmy winds
awake in the fields,
betrothed with hills
loved by the mere
and the surreal moons
Touching you
with the fire of springs.
Art By Rene Magritte.
Lust = pleasure/inclination/desire
Betrothed= having promised to marry somebody
Mere = a pool or lake.
My blooming chart says Love is not Love
that could not resist the flowers to seed, bloom, bask in the moon, wither in the wind
and wait patiently in the ground more agains than springs…
A picture of the Love that surprises Time by Michael Cheval.
I believe that above everything there hovers a Nebula of love.
And randomly, one builds a stairway to the nebula and starts throwing buckets of love to you.
Because it is sweet and warm, you confuse it with wild rain drops in midsummer or huge snowflakes or just candyfloss.
Whenever I feel the beautiful rain and the snowflakes thawing fire on my cheek, I’ll know you’re there in the nebula, dumping buckets full of love in my head…
Art by Rafal Olbinski.
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.
I tell my students, ‘When you get these jobs that you have been so brilliantly trained for, just remember that your real job is that if you are free, you need to free somebody else. If you have some power, then your job is to empower somebody else. This is not just a grab-bag candy game.’
– Toni Morrison.
Grab bag (British English lucky dip) = a game in which people choose a present from a container of presents without being able to see what it is going to be.
I am to set you free from the horrors of making mistakes in English….Freedom is a dangerous tool, when given…
I am working hard & I am at the coalface in inspiring you to feel free in an English speaking environment.
A painter that sets me free: Julius von Klever.
In autumns
we follow the light…
We find it
shuffling her feet on leaves
early yellow
in despairs for winters.
It hurries onto
Your face
As golden as midsummer roses
Absorbing all the beauties
that were…
Press a little bit of it
Under the folded layers
Of your heart
To warm your fire.
Autumn light By Peter Fiore.
blogdecompanie.wordpress.com/2015/09/19/autumn/.
She has the moon
to see the time…
Full moons come
and wane.
So do us
and our time…
Pictures by me, by the side of a mountain and the heart of the sea.
Harbours are places for encounters
We go there often.
We play a game
Of looking at ships gliding
Through foreign scents and mists
and amiable far-aways…
Water is a place for
life and dreams.
Painting: Harbour flare by John Atkinson Grimshawn.
Inspiration: Moby Dick by Herman Melville.
Harald Sohlberg. I could write a poem for each and every one of his paintings.
A Moonlight with a Lighthouse, Coast of Tuscany.
………………………………………………..
What is the light without a moon
And the moon without the light?
The light is what we crave
But moon is what we see.
Whet = to increase your desire for or interest in something.
“Feur had remained curiously unassimilated; she continued to whet the curiosity of lady Alison…” John Galsworthy, A Modern Comedy.
Autumn whets the illusion of permanence.
Nevertheless, the wind in the yellow air is playing a tune: You are no colonists of this world. You are just passing through… As boats dwindling into sunset glares…
Picture by me off the Ionian sea.
As I cannot paint
I write about the meaning of the night…
And being poor
I draw my colours
off the shadows
in the meadows
of Tomorrow.
Monsters living in a dream
colour touches on my lips
passing secrets with a kiss.
Picture: Rene Magritte, The meaning of the night.