He couldn’t be captured in a phrase
Or one hundred…
He was like no one,
He was like a foreign country
That you travelled through
Eerie landscapes and glistening lakes
Towards horizons
Camouflaged in mists
Precluding
Happiness
once felt
And dreamed about.
He was like a giant umbrella
In bright colors
Protective of winds and shadows
Bandaging unseen wounds
In tenderness and
Love.
Also featured at Medium.com/Blue Insights
Art – Harald Sohlberg
Reposting an old poem written in 2015
Let me take you
At the border of a dream
Lulled by midnight’s
Oars of sleep.
Let me love you
As I would
No one.
Let me taste
your words
Unspoken and lamenting
On the back
Of your tongue.
© Iulia Halatz
Also published at Medium/ Blue Insights.
Art by Pawel Kuczynski.
“Nothing can make our life, or the lives of other people, more beautiful than perpetual kindness.”
– Leo Tolstoy
Art – Andrew Wyeth (1917-2009)
written by: Iulia Halatz
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.
Maybe love is a colourless, odourless
stainless haze
We see through
with the eyes of
the bricked sky,
pathless oceans
walled shrubberies
streeted lunarian trails
breathing and tingling
scents
In the perfect nightmare
of flowers…
Vines reward our sun
with the sweetness
of grapes
wedded in perpetuity with
the linear shades of amber.
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…
Also published at Spillwords.com and featured at Quora Digest.
Buried moon, buried moon
Who to talk about at noon
When dreams are plundered by light
And powdered in gold and charcoal dust.
Crescent fairies are sad in the rouse
and at falter to surmise
the scanty slumbering traces
that led stupors into trenches.
The owners of the light
Do not know its might
and the pleasure of the sun
to astound and burn above…
Buried moon, buried moon
I want you soon…
As to play my feral dreams
around the all surviving tunes!
© Iulia Halatz
Published at Medium.com.
Art – Buried moon by Edmund Dulac.
“You must write every single day of your life… You must lurk in libraries and climb the stacks like ladders to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads… may you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world.”
― Ray Bradbury
Art – Henrik Nordenberg
Also published at Quora.
“….and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?”
– Vincent van Gogh
Vincent Van Gogh – Blossoming Chestnut Branches,1890
“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.”
– John Muir
Art by Harald Slott-Moller.
“Indeed, learning to write may be part of learning to read. For all I know, writing comes out of a superior devotion to reading.”
― Eudora Welty, On Writing
Eudora Welty’s cover letter for The New Yorker is the best one ever written, that is why I always introduce it at my Creative Writing Course under the heading “How To Pitch Yourself”.
“We are the masters
of two small islands:
One of carton trees
and hollowed plastic flowers
and One
where the moon lives.
In her eyes
the thawing vernal lights
Endure…”
– Iulia Halatz – From Trapeze artist of the Moon
Amazing photo by Walter Dorsett Photography.
Walter Dorsett Photography
About Iulia Halatz
“Writing is an Iron Tale, must be tough and sincere to the core of human perception of pain as valor. I am the grumpy T-Rex who started writing out of pain, not because of a polished world. Writing out of love is painless and herbivore. As we sometimes taste blood, ours or others’. Nevertheless, some words are so expensive that we are better left with them unspoken or write them with the ink of a Ghost…” She is a teacher, small entrepreneur and cyclist.