You are the mellow vines
ripe at the touch of Autumn.
You are a blue alphabet
falling from the sky…
You are the amber leaves
lured in the sleep of Winter.
You are the macadamized trance
of flowers
when Spring is climbing up the trees.
If you are not the fragrant moon
to bread stars from shimmering flour
You are the color of fire
that burns in everything you see.
Art by Michael Cheval.
He has no love
but music
and cold whispering trees
that were in bloom
under the last dim moon.
He has seen
the unseizable moors
that glitter and dance
in the wandering waves.
He has crossed his Rubicon
The enchantress’ songs
took him along
until he crossed the line of
glimmering waters and fog
with a feral nod.
Art by Kinuko Y. Craft.
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.
“The poet Rilke looked at a statue of Apollo about fifty years ago, and Apollo spoke to him. ‘You must change your life,’ he said. When true myth rises into consciousness, that is always its message. You must change your life.
– Ursula K. Le Guin ~ “Myth and Archetype in Science Fiction”
I look at Vincent van Gogh‘s zest and he spoke to me. “You must see the truth.”
I look at Michael Cheval‘s dance of color and he spoke to me. “You must believe in magic.”
I look at Remedios Varo‘s wild fire and she spoke to me. “You must acquiesce your dark side.”
“Wear scarlet! Tear the green lemons
off the tree! I don’t want
to forget who I am, what has burned in me,
and hang limp and clean, an empty dress.”
― Denise Levertov
Art by Daniel F. Gerhartz.
HE loves me
He keeps my tears
at bay
in a corner crystal ball
and my heart in a field of molten flowers*.
I want to loose the yarn
Again he pours
crimson dew on my weary tales
whilst I am not looking…
It warms like midnight kisses…
My mind smells
the sweet cinnamon
glueing his words together
My eyes see naught
But my garden lilies caught
in cobweb intoxicating grip
and exhilarating dance…
*Source of inspiration – The B-52’s.
Art – Cobweb Dance by Charles Courtney Curran.
“Who are you?”
I asked.
I am a piece of heaven
that reveals the most
to ones in love…
They see the sea
and the tiptoeing stars
barely touching the milky lanes.
Under constellations
Their faces glitter
with words released
yet not spoken…
They are the children
of the stars…
that take away the meaning
of twilights and dawns.
The dust of stars
speaks more
than the sun.
© Iulia Halatz
My last sea holiday this year has been putting ideas in my heart. Yet, again.
Pictures taken in Corfu.
It is what you hear
as vibe of Love
like thunderstorms
stripping the coat
of your soul.
You are undressed and protected
when sounds propagate
to create a garden of lilies
touching the ravishing gold
of water
rippling with innocence
and magnificence
in the winds
in the winters
and in the snows of June.
© Iulia Halatz
Art by Julius Von Klever.
