Blue

Gina Brown - Wind and Rain

Gina Brown – Wind and Rain

was peace only on her surface
easy achieved by being alone?
or did he mess her up
by not coming on his own?

why is she always blue
and her serenity all gone?

tears like crystals
dangling from dark eyes—
thoughts as knives
tearing her sanity apart—

why is she always blue
between her sheets?

her silence so sad
it made the sky weep—
each drop a star
to make her company–

#322

Andrew Wyeth - Christina's world

Andrew Wyeth – Christina’s world

between your thoughts–
the only place
where shame is not a thing–

nothing’s wrong
i’m not too much–

my head is straight
but only inside yours–

*

oh walt! why you?
always you–

you
and your friendly shoulder–

you
and your sweet lips
that speaks only what i wanna hear–

all things i already know
but sometimes forget–

*

don’t let me fall–
again–
don’t let me slip–
again–

unless it’s inside our world
made entirely of grass–

Fictional love

couple-readingweb

Laura DiNello – Couple Reading

you and books there
me and books here

is that a connection
can i create one

letters and poems
books and pens
characters more pens

is that a connection
can i invent one

write one
perhaps

then the depression
a loved one suicide
and the reading
and the singing
and the walking

is that a connection
can i rely on one

poems around the globe
we as work of art

– – –
To Arthur.

Real life

rubens

Peter Paul Rubens – Daniel in the lion’s den

when you see a loved one
slipping herself into madness
with the consent
from her loved ones–

when you see her losing it
and can’t hold her into place
or yourself in somewhere else
than sadness–

when the string is so thin
it vanishes in the air–
when the only light
comes from our hearts–

when life makes no sense
just love can hold
us tight–

and the only pray i say
goes like this:
you can loose your mind
but never your truth

i’ll be here holding you
if you go and if you stay
our hearts are together
wherever you may be–

– – –
To R.

A shelf away

still-life-french-novels-and-rose.jpg!Blog

Vincent van Gogh – Still life – French novels and rose

happiness depends upon
the shelf in which
my books lie–

it contain multitudes
those beautiful little books–

*

little shelf in my room
with stories i wouldn’t dare
leave behind–

in the most special one
Heathcliff hides in the wuthering heights
of my mellow mind–

– – –
Filed under Exercizes.