I’ve Heard the Echoes

I’ve heard the echoes, chased the shadows, danced with the reveries of phantom caresses. Retreat with me to a safe space ‘neath the snow-laden burrows behind the curtain of remembrances where we will carve out the annals of innocence and mirth, and ascend the smoky hills by night’s end. Art: “The Road in front of Saint-Siméon Farm in Winter” Claude Monet #FrenchArt #writing #art #painting #Artwork #literature #creativewriting #poetry #artists #poem #ClaudeMonet #imp

The reality…

“The reality, Sebastian,” Dr. Ganguly started as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door, “Is that what you tend to consider learned speculation really just amounts to empty falderal in the minds of your detractors and supporters alike.” He gazed at Sebastian intently, squinted his eyes, perched his thick black frames further up the bridge of his long, bony nose before removing them abruptly. “You’ll have to take a different approach.” Art: “Two Men at the Table” Erich H

Silent Inhibitions to Rest

I am stillness, still me. Beholding the innocuous gesture of a Recurrent and timely presence. It encompasses me whole, Embracing me with a dire earnestness and constancy of grasp, A veritable representation Of an old man’s impetuous but fleeting importunancy for an unattainable Survival and redemption. But is it I alone whom Nature herself has perchance decreed To succumb so readily unto this damp, caliginous mass of apathy, Habited in its old familiar accouterments,

Faithfully…

Faithfully, The impression of your hand in mine Lingers in a pool of usurped moments As I cast my shadow down the hill Where I coveted your face With searching lips For the first and last time. The centuries will hear my beseech And expand as tunnels inundated with the Dust of the beloved and the fallen. The ferns will outgrow their bodies And begin to sashay nimbly above the Moon-glazed swards that birthed them. Gratuitously, The tortoise will remember to smile

Somewhere…

Somewhere Your light shimmers. I peruse its many essences In search of myself. Art: “The Seine at Vétheuil” Claude Monet #art #Artwork #haiku #poetry #artists #poem #ClaudeMonet #Poet

Drift

Unguided drift Back to the ruins Passions unearthed Art: “Landscape with Dunes” Helen Frankenthaler #contemporaryart #Artwork #abstractart #haiku #poetry #artists #poem #Poet

Surrounded…

Surrounded by mongers of oppression through hate and conformity, we resist. Inspired by love, self-determination, and a passion for equality, we persist. Art: “Of Heritage and Popular Beliefs” Mahmoud Aelchenaqrab #art #contemporaryart #Artwork #middleeasternart #poetry #artists #poem #Poet

That Morning…

That morning, Not a ripple remained among us That did not encompass some thought About yesterday. We endeavor to keep them all, And feast with them, Inspecting them for clarity Of hindsight and reflection. They have kissed the breeze Of their own accord, And have delighted in their secrets, Half-divulged, In concert with vague movements. They tell us nothing, But show us what it means To be the salvation That awaits them With a half-smile One night Years ago.

Water

Startled by the shrill cries of feathered sable-winged imps, I awaken. I stumble with purpose to the bathroom, turn on the faucet, allowing the stark cold deluge of life to overtop my cupped hands. Perched over the sink like a sordid mendicant in the throes of his final prostration, I am momentarily transfixed by the effortless and inconstant swishing and swirling, movement upon movement, all manner of transparent, tenuous being turning back on itself. Just as soon as it is t

There are Many Mirrors Here…

There are many mirrors here, But none so translucent As the one I turned away from Moons and stars and galaxies ago, When your possibility entered my awareness And the dark corners that dutifully inhabit your space Culminated into many precipices, Each one beckoning me to leap Into this sea that churns with unknowing- Head unbowed, arms outstretched, hands trembling As I clutch this mirror tightly; yes, the one I made for you, Moons and stars and galaxies ago, Now c

Look Away…

Look away, And in time you will see them. They persist As little droplets of unrequited passion, Given to merciful hands That excise all relation to thought. In this moment Allow your truth to reveal its scars; Let them dry and close up. Let them cry at will. Let them stare back at you Until you are moved And incapacitated. There is no wind here to carry you. There are no shadows to cajole you. Run, then sleep. If you awaken early, run again. Forget your futu

Falling leaves…

Atumnal tears of joy, Whisked away by a faint zephyr No less familiar to me Than the one I knew And surrendered to In my youth; That cooled my veins, That caressed my budding heart, That still whispers songs without words On those days when I am all but Convinced that the familiar melodies Were never forgotten. Art: “Falling Autumn Leaves” Vincent van Gogh #art #painting #Nature #poetry #artists #FallingAutumnLeaves #poem #VincentvanGogh

Dance…

Dance between abandoned footsteps Implanted on the sun. Make love with the winds of resistance, Until the birth of our horizon. Art: “Yellow Sky” Elmer Bischoff #art #BayAreaFigurativeMovement #YellowSky #BayAreaart #poetry #artists #poem #ElmerBischoff