Tag: love

Crossed Paths

The exhibition was heading into a direction of disaster. The central heating in the venue wasn’t working and leaving pockets of cold air throughout the loft. He could hear viewers sneezing and coughing.

The viewers only filled about thirty percent of the gallery capacity, pathetic really. Why would anyone wanted to spend a Friday night after a long ass day of work to look at some abstract expressionist paintings from a no name artist and a fresh graduate? He knew he was no Pollock; he didn’t want to be Pollock or his work identified as Pollock alike.

His work had a floral theme, always, even the viewers couldn’t tell because they were abstracts. He had always fixated on flowers especially the little ones like baby-breath, forget-me-not, fairy-foxglove and windflowers.

These are beautiful paintings, don’t you think? A euphonious voice interrupted his negative thoughts about his exhibition.

I feel the artist is trying to tell the world how much they love the seemingly invisible things in life. She spoke again.

Do you know much about the painter? He asked without looking at her. And he knew they were both focusing on the painting in front of them, for some reason, he just knew that she wasn’t looking at him.

Not at all. I literally walked in here to get warm and stumbled into an exhibition. Life is like that, unexpected pleasure.

He could hear the smile and even joy from her voice.

And I try not to read or research the artist before I look at their paintings anyway. I want to really see them through their work rather than filtered opinions, if you know what I mean.

I kinda know what you mean. You want to experience first-hand the inner world of the artist rather than an interpretation from others.

Correct! For all I know, this painter could be a granny with saggy tits. But she is beautiful because her paintings are exquisitely beautiful.

You really think so?

What? The granny with saggy tits, or the paintings are exquisite?

Now the left side of his face was burning, he knew she was looking at him. He turned to her with an uncontrollable grin, the painting, and the granny too.

I am not much an art person; I mean I am not professionally trained. These paintings look abstract to me. For some reason, I feel I saw little flowers or petals. Maybe this led me to believe the painter is a she, or feminine. The saggy tits are just my bad humour. She pulled her face and he love that witty look.

Excuse me, may I borrow the artist from you, mam? He was pulled away from her by the gallery curator to the rugged area which served as a stage. It was time for him to deliver the thank you for coming speech and close the exhibition.

I want to say thank you to you all for coming tonight to my first exhibition. I am sorry that if you end up catching a cold because of the stuffed central heating. I will suggest you buy one of my paintings to wipe your noise with, I know the paper I used, they are suitable for sanding your nose.

Jokes aside, I didn’t expect anyone would come tonight, and yet you are here. You may not get my paintings, I know, I know they are not everyone’s cup of tea. But I feel supported, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I know at least one of you get me as an artist and what I try to express and share, and I am grateful for you, and I am glad you stumbled into my exhibition. He looked at her when he said that last few sentences.
 

Scars

He ran his paint stained fingers over the scars on his chest. They reminded him of the pleasure she gave him. The raised flesh was soft like her lips, and the memory of the demeaning words came from her lips made him hard. But a rush of sadness formed a stabbing pain in his heart.

He got out of bed and moved towards his studio, brought the half smoked weed with him. Continued to work on the painting, he wanted to finish it by dawn. he had already completed the sketch, and the lilac, pink and white windflowers covered most of the canvas. The final touch was to work on the detail of the ugly weathered window where the viewer would see the field of windflowers from. He might go over the field of windflowers with a wash of rain, might not. His mind was scattered by the earlier encounter with her.

He took a drag of the weed, not sure why he smoked it, it had no effect on him whatsoever. She hated him smoking. Was it the rebel in him, or being spiteful, or making a statement of his new found freedom, or an attempt to distract himself from thinking of her? Without any warning, he was all choked up by the lump in his throat trying to move up to release into salt vapours.

Love You Till The End

I loved you when I was unsure if you would love me back.

I loved you when my heart broke into pieces because you weren’t sure if you loved me back.

I loved you on our wedding day when you asked me not to settle for the second best.

I loved you when you couldn’t love yourself.

I loved you when you shut yourself from me.

I loved you when you accused me of saying those hurtful words which I didn’t say.

I loved you till I stopped loving myself.

I couldn’t love you when I lost myself.

I loved you when you set me free.

I loved you when you became an old friend, and you finally loved me too.

I loved you till the day you died.

You are the greatest tragedy of my life, and I love you still.

Nature Declares

Oil painting attempt “heart”

My heart is an island
Your eyes are the ocean
Your shoulder is the land
Our love shimmers
from the view of an airplane

Cut up Poem

If I cut up
our love
with well worn time

Instead of creating
a new fairy tale
I write a memoir
of resurrection

Consummation

Girlie on the edge’s six sentence story prompt word – wrap

When you pour your love into me, happy molecules overflow from my pores like the sunlight through the canopy.

I look up to you with admiring crescent moon eyes, letting all your splendour shimmer over me.

We are wrapped in this silk cacoon waiting to be birthed into something magnificent with blinding colours.

Who’d have known that we are capable of creating such life and joy, all in a matter of auras flashing and mortal intertwined?

We can’t help but worship the creator creating such divine bond between two souls.

Unity in unison in welcoming a new life of oneness with twinkling eyes and fulfilling smile, we are in awe.

Sacred Lavender

Ten sprigs of lavender
my last offering
with devotion
in purity

It’s Not Meant to Be

We don’t need much encouragement to ignite a thousand fireflies.
Talking about the weather is our way to keep the ambience lukewarm.
People talk about chemistry or destiny.
Though we both know that it’s the knowing which only dreamers know; the touching which only lovers fathom.

We don’t need much encouragement to spread a wild fire.
Being silent is what we can master to mask the need.
People talk about soul mates or twin flames.
For us, it’s just two people happily know each other but never feel the need to meet.

We don’t need much encouragement to burn up heaven.
Leaving without saying goodbye is the only way that we survive from each other.
People talk about love and affair.
We know too well that we choose neither.


So it’s just like we said it would be, forever perfectly perfect.

Ready Or Not

Girlie On The Edge Six Sentence Story prompt – Visa

It’s been five whole years since they last talked.
The pandemic lockdown broke them apart, and the need for companion snuffled the remanence of love.
Living with stage four cancer turned her world upside-down, priority of life, things that truly matter and making amends were all she could think of in every waking moment.
She stocked up in medicications, purchased a plane ticket, got a visa approval, and said goodbye to her loved ones, in case she doesn’t make it back home after the trip.
The same driver way, the same door, the same smell of the garden, and the same bird songs, all these were so familiar, but it’s a gamble, she wasn’t really sure if he still lives there, and it felt like centuries have passed before she worked up the courage to knock at the door.
The door opened and a young woman was looking at her, then called out her name, ‘Dad took his own life two months ago, we are here to tidy up his house for sale, would you like to come in?’