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Poetry of Art - page 4

Poetry of art or art of poetry, that is the question...

LAST FIRE ~ POEM BY DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI

in Poetry of Art by

Love,through your spirit and mine what summer eve
Now glows with glory of all things possess’d,
Since this day’s sun of rapture filled the west
And the light sweetened as the fire took leave?
Awhile now softlier let your bosom heave,
As in Love’s harbour, even that loving breast,
All care takes refuge while we sink to rest,
And mutual dreams the bygone bliss retrieve.
Many the days that Winter keeps in store,
Sunless throughout, or whose brief sun-glimpses
Scarce shed the heaped snow through the naked trees,
This day at least was Summer’s paramour,
Sun-coloured to the imperishable core
With sweet well-being of love and full heart’s ease.

DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI

painting Daydream by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

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FISH SONG ~ POEM BY ALAN KLEIMAN

in My Artist Friends ~ and their creations.../Poetry of Art by

FISH SONG

Nobody knows da trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows my sorrow
Nobody knows da trouble I’ve seen
Lordy lordy lord.

Nobody now knows nothing
No stuff
No junk
No words of my life
No secrets
No nothing that moves or shakes me.

What is my life but a sad tale
Of fish flying
And maybe a whale
Nobody knows the trouble
Nobody’s now my girl
Rhubarb and roses
Fly away home.

© Alan Kleiman 2011

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ALFRED LORD TENNYSON ~ SADNESS

in Poetry of Art by

“Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depths of some devine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.”

Alfred Lord Tennyson

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MUSICAL DREAM OF PASSION ~ POEM BY MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK

in My own creations/Poetry of Art by

Dancing, dancing the tango

With you my love

As if we are the only ones

Dancing in this world

We both feel this passionate love of ours

Bodies close together

While we are turning and moving around

Listening to these bittersweet words

Of pain and despair

Please let the music continue,

I do not want to stop

And step back into the real world

Let me dance

Just a little bit longer

Cherish this safety

Of your protective arms

Seeing these proud movements

In a sensual way

Submission and coalescence

Are taking control over me

Your masculine posture, my sensual spinning

Around you

I let myself go,

Nothing on my mind

Just the deepness of the music

And the necessity of

Being close to you

The music stops

Words are fading away

Shadows are falling on us

It is getting late

This dancing of us

Has come to an end

And so has this glorious feeling

Of surrender and passion

One step back into reality

A reality without you my love

A last look in your eyes

And I can read the message they are telling me

But you can not speak out..

Adios mi amor

Monique Weberink

2011

KEES VAN DONGEN

Dance with the Archangel

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WANTING TO CONFIRM ~ POEM BY MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK

in My own creations/Poetry of Art by

Yes I do, no I don’t
This is driving me insane
What is and what is not true
Recently anchored on this chain

This chain of metal
One made of heavy steel
But it wont have time to settle
No longer matters what I feel

When I stare into your glares
Emotions start to flow
Overloaded internal affairs
Released from their escrow

It is you that I adore
Taken control of my every nerve
I never felt like that before
Your stunning beauty I observe

I no longer have control
A desperate urge to kiss you
Two melting to become whole
Strangely that is not what I do

I can not move anymore
My body frozen like a statue
my great love that I adore
Cold feet is the blocking issue

I rather keep my distance
Watching from behind a screen
Not moving for an instance
Just a few feet in between

Lucky me, yes that is true
Its you I loved all my life
Now I know for sure its you
Forever one as husband and wife

Monique Weberink
2011

Edvard Munch

The Kiss

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THE DREAM ~ BORIS PASTERNAK

in Poetry of Art by

I dreamt of autumn in the window’s twilight,
And you, a tipsy jesters’ throng amidst. ‘
And like a falcon, having stooped to slaughter,
My heart returned to settle on your wrist.

But time went on, grew old and deaf. Like thawing
Soft ice old silk decayed on easy chairs.
A bloated sunset from the garden painted
The glass with bloody red September tears.

But time grew old and deaf. And you, the loud one,
Quite suddenly were still. This broke a spell.
The dreaming ceased at once, as though in answer
To an abruptly silenced bell.

And I awakened. Dismal as the autumn
The dawn was dark. A stronger wind arose
To chase the racing birch trees on the skyline,
As from a running cart the streams of straws.

Boris Pasternak

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FAREWELL ~ A POEM BY KRISTIAN GOLDMUND AUMANN

in Poetry of Art by

Farewell

The dream seems lost…
A hug
And then
Maybe it is time
I will go back to the shore
Where
I can throw sand into the sea
Watch the singing waves
From them comes the future
And the dream
Is still far
From being lost
Countless moments in the water
Silhouettes in blue
Where the sky…
And the rings are silent
Within
The Floating Time

KRISTIAN GOLDMUND AUMANN
AUTHOR/MARCH/2011

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IMPRESIONES (3) A BRIDGE TOO FAR BY MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK AND VICTOR M. ALONSO

in My Artist Friends ~ and their creations.../Poetry of Art by

A BRIDGE TOO FAR – BY MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK AND VICTOR M. ALONSO

NOCHE DE MARZO.

Las aves cantan en la noche,

La madrugada tierna

Que escucha el pensamiento.

Son mis sensaciones fraguadas

En recuerdos distantes

Y urdidas de presente.

Es la fragancia intensa,

Persistente, de una palabra

Valiosa, imprescindible,

Que fragua la miel del silencio.

Porque yo quiero en esta noche

De invierno en calma

Modelar tu cintura

Dame una flor y un verso,

Un fragor distinto y un beso,

Mientras guardando yo estaré tu luz

Bajo la luna.

VICTOR M. ALONSO (MARZO, 2011)

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IMPRESIONES (2) BLUE PAGE ~ VICTOR M. ALONSO AND MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK

in My Artist Friends ~ and their creations.../Poetry of Art by

IMPRESIONES (2)

BLUE PAGE

(Sobre un trabajo de Monique Lucy Weberink)

No es sólo la distancia,

Es el tiempo el que abre

El azul de la mar

Que golpea esta noche de vigilia.

Hacia qué latitudes se dirige

El pensamiento exhausto,

Esa mirada tierna

De tu alma que tiembla ?

Qué insinúa tu mano,

Qué rumbos añora trazar

En el océano racial,

Tormentoso, de la existencia ?

Es mía la sangre que moja

El rojo centro del espacio,

El piélago supremo

Que arde de nostalgia

Y urde marejadas de pasión.

VICTOR M. ALONSO

GRAN CANARIA, MARZO, 2011

A BLUE PAGE BY MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK

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A LITTLE ONE'S FIRST ENCOUNTER ~ POEM BY MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK

in My own creations/Poetry of Art by

Today you are full and so very bright
Little sparkles reflected on the water
Washed onto the shore by current high tide
Just me there as its sole spotter

I can feel an air flow on my arms
A cold heavy shiver takes control
Its new to me but has its charms
Only warmth from some burning coal

Present high above this beach today
I am sitting here in the clammy sand
You once again decided to have it your way
Making this tiny pieces stick to my hand

Its dark everywhere so late at night
Small creatures finding their ways
Your magic always feels exactly right
Exactly described in numerous essays

Mystic light high up in the sky
You are there, over and over again
In the spotlight, that is why
When the time is right, that is when

You want me to focus, watch you, and only you
I am not alone here, its us that enjoys
We talk and laugh, that is what people do
Not able to break your spell with our noise

So far yet you are so close you are to me
As if I can pluck you right out of the sky
I like to, trust me I tried, didn’t you see
I feel attracted to your magic, that is why

Completely quiet, silence all evening long
Except for what is washed ashore
As if they know its here where they belong
They are everywhere but you want me to ignore

And then sometimes you try to hide
Not much to go for but some fluffy cloud
Those beams of light make the night exactly right
And I understand you, which makes me proud

We eat away the melted marshmallows
A bit burned by the wild moving flames
Dancing like the movement of sounding cellos
The adults around me making no claims

A dot moves along crossing you in its spaceflight
Traveling to its destined path in ideal alignment
High up in the sky like a running knight
Your face shines light, and shows some excitement

Smiling or sad, who knows how you feel
To me you are a magnificent sight
A drawing in the sky, it looks surreal
Only to vanish again at breaking daylight

But its good to have you near
I’d hope to see you again tomorrow
I’ll be waiting for you to appear
You turn darkness into an inspiring fresco

But I am only 8, and my holiday has come to an end
We will see each other again soon, my mystic friend

Monique Lucy Weberink

2011

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