Who does grass
more justice than him
We all casually think
they are green
Under Vincent’s brush
they are fireworks
hidden in plain shells
In vibrant hues
and starbursts
we are awestruck
by his aesthetic launch
let’s look up to the sky
to count the miracles of love
before the meteor shower
how love made us
soared among the avalanche
swam in a whirlpool of clouds
poured out composition of
distinctive colour contrasts
from a desolate interior
created masterpieces that
transcend emotions and impact
with buzzing noises
smiled brightly in monochromatic suffering
wept deeply for the oppressed in our triumph
love is boundless
even the shooting stars are
no match for her
They are bloggers
tapping their life on two screens
from the initial collision
progressing to sleep deprived nights
filled with wonders and laughter
The courtship
fueled them with creativity
Great art works
splashed on a starlight canvas
with primal hues and mystic tones
sprayed with rusted shades
perfected with mastery final tints
When the exhausion set in
they lamented in clarinet and cello duet
until the sun came up on a new day
to conclude the burial
Greif lingered like autumn rain
until the sun peeked out to
strike a rainbow over the sky
sending out a sumliminal message of hope
Their love affair made them
painters and musicians
but foremost Poets
I am fascinated by the music box mechanism
behind the graceful spinning ballerina
is the precision joining forces of fragments
set of pins on a revolving cylinder
plucking the steel comb lamellae
I imagine
the care and maintenance of such
an original piece
requires the patience and skills of
an artisan watchmaker
I am in awe of
the complex and detailed effort
to make real of
a simple gasp of amazement
I come to the realisation
whenever a praise of beauty is heard
a life long devotion is behind it all
living in the gloomy dullness of life
I saw the piercing light
like the mobile phone notification flashing at night
walking through this unfamiliar tunnel
seeker of the illumination
stretch my arms to the walls
guiding my path in the pitch black
my fingers interpreting the rough fossils on the walls
they speak despair, torment, light and beauty
frame by frame these engraving paintings of art
I drench in all the emotions on offer
without sight
my kinesthetic fingers
reading them in wondrous
you are the light drawn me to the walk
your life I have experienced
in this tunnel of art
when I finally reach you
I will be undone, done and
completed!
Flicker of Thoughts 