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poetry - page 9

GEORGE SAND ~ ON BEING A POET

in Poetical Visions by

He who draws noble delights from sentiments of poetry is a true poet, though he has never written a line in all his life.

~George Sand, 1851

Painting is George Sand by Eugene Delacroix

SADNESS ~ A THOUGHT BY MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK

in My own creations/Poetry of Art by

Overwhelmed by Despair, wanting to get out
but I can not, Prisoner of my own Unconscious Mind…

Monique Lucy

Painting : Demon Seated by Mikael Vrubel

EMILY DICKINSON ~ AMERICAN POET

in Poetical Visions by

To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie –
True Poems flee.
~Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson: Born in Amherst, Massachusetts, in 1830, Emily Dickinson is regarded as one of the greatest American poets. Most of her work was published after her death in 1886.

WHERE ARE YOU MY LOVE ~ POEM BY MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK

in My own creations/Poetry of Art by

Where are you my love?

Being here and I can hear you talk
but I can not understand your words

Standing here I can see you looking at me
but I can not really see

You are touching me
but there is only emptiness

A smile
but I feel no joy

Where are you my love?
I search and search trying to recall
those precious moments of passion
they are lost

Does this mean the end of us
or the beginning of me without you

Monique Lucy Weberink

2010

The Loneliness of a Drowning Soul ~ MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK

in My own creations/Poetry of Art by

THE LONELINESS OF A DROWNING SOUL ~ MONIQUE LUCY WEBERINK

Help me, please, I am sinking
Sinking deeper in some sort of colorless Mud
You are not reaching out for my Hand
And although it is close, I can not grab it

When you sensed me, you even moved your hand away
I desperately tried to reach out further
So many faces surrounding me
They keep coming closer and like a dense fog

I am drowning while the fog takes my vision
Its getting colder and I start to shiver
I try to reach for the ground below me
But my feet are without weight sensing the abyss below

The faces look upon me in pity
They are speaking, but in weird voices
Are they talking to or about me
The sounds feel like words of mercy without love

There is only one voice I desperately long for
But this one I do not hear
Whispering, my love, do not worry, I am here.
Now it becomes clear you were never there

I am sinking deeper and deeper
There is no hope left
Was your love ever real?
Panic feeds a darkness at the heart of my Soul

I cant see anything anymore, not even the shapes
Your hand is gone and there is nothing else to grab on to
I surrender and fall into the depth
All alone my soul is drowning

2010 – Monique Lucy Weberink

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