Now I know why
Van Gogh
Did yellow
Dressed in black
Like the crows
I seek succor
From the sun
Or at least
Its result of
Photosynthesis
Corn
Planted by Corvus
As they compete
With the squirrels
Dodge my dogs
Dropping kernels
That sink into the rainy
Earth
And I try to remember
This darkness will pass
I will see yellow again
As my aura soaks in
The balance of
Magical spectrums of
Vibrant colors…
© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Music and Madness
Only bought one useless prize
Irresistible when the monitor holds
The entire world bazaar
Unfolding before my eyes
Beckoning me with its wares
One click and it’s mine
At least I succumbed to practicality
A twelve-pack of picks
I don’t use them
I strum with my thumb
But here are twelve miniature paintings
By Vince VG
So let’s see
Can use the Starry Night one
When playing Don McLean’s Vincent
Can use The Bedroom one
When playing Linda Ronstadt’s song
Since the answer to her question
When Will I Be Loved?
Is always “Never”
(That single bed tells it all)
Yes, I can see
Playing and singing with artwork
Between my fingers and thumb
Can be fun
For a day, anyway…
© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
Guess I do like
Star-crazed men
As long as they’re
Super smart
Sapiosexual
(That’s a social media buzz word)
So my artist crush is
Vincent Van Gogh
Many of us love him
He’s not the most realistic artist
But certainly owns a
Mysterious soul
Some say someone else
Cut off his ear
Over a woman
I personally don’t care
Enamored with him anyway
How nice to see
A modern artist
Who conceived a
Dating service
Of famous faces
He pairs two of my favorite portraits:
Although not drop-dead gorgeous
Next to Helen of Troy
La Giaconda
(The Joyful One)
The Mona Lisa
Is considered
An enigmatically beautiful woman
Some say DaVinci drew himself
In drag
They cite head and
Bone structure measurements
But I don’t see it
Not sure if that is the claim
Of proud gay commentators
Or homophobic ones
I personally don’t care
I do care why, though
Why do we often
Give our hearts
To those who were
So lost
Centuries ago
Why do we feel one with them
Is it the egotistical
Saviour complex
Like, if only Van Gogh
Had loved me
I would have cherished him
I would have saved him
Oh, Vincent
If only you were here
Or
If only I was there
Rescue me…
© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Barry Kite, Aberrant Art
(Thanks to Lisa Rachael for posting pictures)
(scroll down for youtube video)
No, no, I’m not Don McLean
I certainly do not feel ashamed
As the music emanates from ukulele strings
I laugh in delight and then I sing
No, no, not his voice
Fingers clumsy but it’s my choice
Better to play a respectful pastiche
Than live in silence, longing leashed…
© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
Image: Starry Night Over the Rhone, Vincent Van Gogh
YouTube Video: Vincent, Don McLean https://youtu.be/4wrNFDxCRzU
When I think of you
I am on the cobbled terrace
Painted by Van Gogh
It is a starry night
And I sip the richest espresso
&&&
No matter that I am really
Sitting in Subway
Sipping diet cola
Cramming veggies and cheese
Back inside my dry-as-a-Painted Desert
White flour bun
&&&
Unable to finish
I throw it away
Walk outside
Find myself whispering to
The trash-picking crows
“Bring him to me!”
Might as well send out the
Flying Monkeys
For all the response
From the gathering of
The black-winged murders
&&&
Ah, Vincent
(If I may call you by your first name)
Here you were, on the Camargue
In Arles
Surrounded by beauty
That you faithfully interpreted
For generations of art appreciators
Yet your life was lonely, too
And no crows or fairy godmothers
Could bring your love to you
&&&
Painters and poets and players of instruments
Why isn’t nature’s beauty and
Relatively good physical health
Ever enough?
© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
poeturja 