Time really does fly by. It’s been a busy past couple of months, and this phase will only end in June hopefully. I have neglected interactions on this platform for a minute, albeit unintentionally, it has been devastating. I didn’t have time to pull together a story this week, fortunately, I have this poem for “writing crisis” like now. I love all art forms and often imagine that if I had the time I would project my creativity in making paintings, so here’s a poem that’ll stir your imagination, I hope you enjoy it. Au Revoir darlings.
A lone man’s dreams these stories
Corals of ox-blood and ultramarine.
Delicate pieces of happiness, beauty & lust
War entwined onto the canvas on the wall.
Beauty floats in a meadow of virágok
Maidens of silk ebony skin,
Their radiant eyes veiled like morning dew
with voices like canaries.
Ensnaring them are men of power
Missles fire into the air
Corrupted soil turns crimson.
Volcanos give off condensed smug
Feathered fawn, persnickety lots
A doe beside mossy greenery
Announcing it’s meek spirit
as if it were home
Wolves growl hastily at their prey
The blood moon runneth over
Flirting abstractions on tempera and pastel
The silhouette of a man
seated at a table
Elegance stares back at him
His bride by his side
Their hearts meet in the center
Knowing each other.
Finding each other
Completely free in each other.
Alas, evil stirs the ego of his brother
Consuming him, he unleashes a wrath
Thus bringing an end to a beautiful home
Man being his kin’s worse enemy.
Etched in brass beneath the painting;
“Her love although late, saved me,
but not before I forged a decree
and descended on the cul-de-sac to self-destruction.”
The fresco hangs haphazardly on the wall
Creating an imbalance between light and darkness.
Love and valor. Life and honor.
Archaic to the tides of change.
Virágok: origin; Hungarian, meaning; flowers