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FEELING OF IMMORTALITY ~ POEM BY MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK

in My own creations/Poetry of Art by

FEELING OF IMMORTALITY

Please stop, I need silence inside
Be quiet, there is so much noise
No longer is it possible to live
Words are floating away from me
Dragged along with the ocean tide

My body and soul are kept in piece
While walking along this seashore
Feelings are drawn away from me
Picked up by the unpredictable tide
Gone forever dragged into the deep

New waves keep arriving onshore
The water looks so tender and soft
But at the same time so very cruel
I am much aware of my vulnerability
So small am I in the presence of you

Why did you always need control
You have drowned my personality
And the water continued to call me
Always these same waveless voices
Why didn’t you just let me drift away

A meander of tears escaping my eyes
This desperate heart of mine is leaking
Flooding my remorse and bitter feelings
A pool  which colors are nothing but dark
Slowly vaporized by the heat of hatred

The sand sticks to my feet as if a warning
But its no use I am encouraged to walk on
This luring abyss is dangerously present
A constant flux of changes but I hesitate
Before me the sun disappears at horizons end

I realize I am just focused on my own pain
Words no longer reach my sinking heart
But the emotional wound is cut too deep
I am desperately seeking my own relief
Do I honestly think this is not the end?

Monique Lucy Weberink
January, 2012



Demon and Angel with Tamara’s Soul (1891) by Vrubel

JULIO CORTAZAR ~ THE FUTURE/EL FUTURO

in Poetry of Art by

The Future

And I know full well you won’t be there.

You won’t be in the street, in the hum that buzzes

from the arc lamps at night, nor in the gesture

of selecting from the menu, nor in the smile

that lightens people packed into the subway,

nor in the borrowed books, nor in the see-you-tomorrow.

You won’t be in my dreams,

in my words’ first destination,

nor will you be in a telephone number

or in the color of a pair of gloves or a blouse.

I’ll get angry, love, without it being on account of you,

and I’ll buy chocolates but not for you,

I’ll stop at the corner you’ll will never come to,

and I’ll say the words that are said

and I’ll eat the things that are eaten

and I’ll dream the dreams that are dreamed

and I know full well you won’t be there,

not here inside, in the prison where I still hold you,

nor there outside, in this river of streets and bridges.

You won’t be there at all, you won’t be even a memory,

and when I think of you I’ll be thinking a thought

that’s obscurely trying to recall you.

EL FUTURO

Y se muy bien que no estaras

No estaras en la calle, en el murmullo que brota de noche

de los postes de alumbrado, ni en el gesto

de elegir el menu, ni en la sonrisa

que alivia los completos en los subtes,

ni en los libros prestados ni en el hasta manana.

No estaras en mis suenos,

en el destino original de mis palabras,

ni en una cifra telefonica estaras

o en el color de un par de guantes o una blusa.

Me enojare, amor mio, sin que sea por ti,

y comprare bombones pero no para ti,

me parare en la esquina a la que non vendras,

y dire las palabras que se dicen

y comere las cosas que se comen

y sonare los suenos que se suenan

y se muy bien que no estaras,

ni aqui adentro, la carcel donde aun te retengo,

ni alli fuera, este rio de calles y de puentes.

No estaras para nada, no seras ni recuerdo,

y quando piense en ti pensare un pensamiento

que oscuramente trata de acordarse de ti.

JULIO CORTAZAR

JULIO CORTAZAR ~ THE BRIEF LOVE/EL BREVE AMOR

in Poetry of Art by

THE BRIEF LOVE

How smoothly and how sweetly

she lifts me from the bed where I was dreaming

of profound and fragrant fields,

she runs her fingers over my skin and sketches me

in space, suspended, until the kiss

alights curved and recurrent

a slow flame kindling

the rhythmic dance of the bonfire

weaving us together in flashes, in spirals,

going and coming in a storm of smoke…

(So why is

what’s left of me, afterwards,

just a sinking into ashes

without a goodbye, with nothing more than a gesture

of letting our hands go free?)

Julio Cortazar

EL BREVE AMOR

Con qué tersa dulzura
me levanta del lecho en que soñaba
profundas plantaciones perfumadas,

me pasea los dedos por la piel y me dibuja
en le espacio, en vilo, hasta que el beso
se posa curvo y recurrente

para que a fuego lento empiece
la danza cadenciosa de la hoguera
tejiédose en ráfagas, en hélices,
ir y venir de un huracán de humo-

(¿Por qué, después,
lo que queda de mí
es sólo un anegarse entre las cenizas
sin un adiós, sin nada más que el gesto
de liberar las manos ?

JULIO CORTAZAR

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

PLATO ~ ON BEING A POET

in Poetical Visions/The words that make sense... brilliant writings by writers... by

‘Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.”
Plato

The image is from a classical sculpture of Plato found on Crete.

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

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

OBLIVION ~ POEM BY MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK

in My own creations by

Being deserted, feeling all alone

There is just this huge emptiness

Looking for some kind of escape

When I let myself go I feel heavy

Deceiving myself in this way

Nothing really matters anymore

Feeling just a sense of lost

Despair has passed and there is a way out

Do not want to remember my past

Do not want to acknowledge my present

Nor do I have any desire for the future

I am in this timeless state of mind

There is only one thing I long for

Tears in my eyes, sliding down my cheek

More tears will follow, that for sure

Accompanied by my hysterical laughter

Feelings of fear are taking control

I want to run away from this all

Running away from the confusion

But I have no place left to go to

Walking in this city full of strangers

In this place that is no longer mine

Going no place special just from there to here

Decided to look for an exit

I realize that once I was happy here

Seeing all these places I remember

But I can’t find it back, my happiness

Because its time now to be all by myself

High buildings are surrounding me

I find myself entering the nearest door

Then going up, further up, as high as possible

This is where it will end, no more tears to cry

Memories are lost, they are taken by the wind

I close my eyes and feel a cold breeze

My thoughts start spinning, faster, faster

A dizziness takes control of my body

Now it is time, there is no escape anymore

How much pain can one feel inside

I relax and look down, how much more to bare

Adrenaline is rushing through my veins

I jump and set myself free…

Monique Lucy Weberink

2011

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

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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