Showing 27 paintings on canvas and 2 photographs.
I remembered you red, crimson red, with blue eyes, dark suit. A glare burnt into forced amnesia. A flare that lingered through the fall. Forbidden faint memories, triggered by the echo of my voice —I don’t need you. You don’t need me.
I saw you after the storm yesterday. Did you say hello? Did I? Your silver eyes smiled, like a secret sparkle. You changed. Did I?
Winter blossom, scarlet flower.
So late. Oh! So early.
Will you survive this snow storm?
I follow the smoke unaware
Its swirling path mirrors the mist of my thoughts
… or not —I whisper when I catch my wanders
Autumn is almost death
There comes winter and the heavy blackness
… or not —I hope for snow and solar storms
flames red fire
skis and snow
OpenLinkNight – November 2014 | dVerse Poets Pub.
You are all fired up
sending flames of distress instead of cozy warmness
I question you
Why not colour this night with dancing sparkles?
Why not share your radiant warmness?
Why not show a smoky smile?
You answer in ardent movements
consuming news in abrasive outbursts
flaming this world’s blood reality
No more reminders of hunger
No more reading material
No more war photos
No empty tears
Your highly exothermic reaction
stops me from approaching you
Your explosion shakes me
Ignited red paper articles transmute into grey ash
Maybe you are right
We should all flame those words
SHOUT at passive acceptance
Question the deaths
NOTE: Tomorrow, 20th November 2014, we officially celebrate the 104th anniversary of the Mexican Revolution. Today it is difficult to argue that the country is in a position to have any celebration. I do not advocate violence, and do not propose to use it either. However, I do advocate a reaction, to not accept this reality, to fight for human rights, for security, for a stop of violence, a human humanity, peace.
I cannot say that I have been active enough… A poem can be a start.
Today’s fired-up poem got surprisingly inspired by a random choice of an adjective and a noun (pervasive fireplace) after Marina Sofia’s prompt at Poetics: Make the Abstract Concrete… | dVerse.
Brown foliage ready for fire
Dilated eyes tired of nothing
Sharp rhythms and rain outside
A candle dries her visions
Petals thinking in red
Begging for heat
She is not here
The air withers her spirit
Fades her passion
Brown pupils loosing control
Falling into pieces
Like dead flowers touched by the wind
The lightning is far
Rain is not outside