fullness of heart
at first sight
sweet
. calm
. jagged
. flowing
velvety as wine cream
. sweet
. calm
. restless
the simplest of pleasures
a knit of human connection
a banquet of fruit and chocolate
deep and dark and bittersweet
and floating in the room
the candle now still
a time to depart
ex machina
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I still walk to that lake, the surface now still,
absence of geometry, ache of tranquility,
a voice but a whisper
soothing, sad, a silver
thorn in the side of love.
What love creates, need destroys.
We put flowers on the table
at the changing of the season.
Then the rains came. We watched
through the kitchen window.
You turned out the lamp.
“I love you more than I need you,” I said.
“Now I know what that means.”
But need, the ache, the silver thorn,
will have its bloody day.
Time passes. Seasons change.
When I walk to the lake I stir the surface,
the glitter of sun, a dangerous swell,
my hand beginning to move
into place a geometry
of memories.
Poem by Gary Gautier
Painting by Cheryl Gautier
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A little slant haiku. Which do you prefer? The first one (“my”), which orients the field more personally, or the second one (“a”), which orients the field more philosophically/metaphysically?
you
are the rain
drops
falling
on my stone
pillow
xxxx
you
are the rain
drops
falling
on a stone
pillow
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From Wroclaw, Poland, 04/24/22
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From Chamonix/Mont Blanc, 4/6/22
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From Cornavin Station, Geneva, 4/3/22
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I’ll take some help with the two versions of a poem below. I like the longer one to be fitted into a concept-based collection, but I’m not sure which is better for a standalone post. Any thoughts?
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From Granada, 3/28/22
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From Madrid, 3/24/22
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shakemyheadhollow 