Not until orchestral tones blend into the clouds
Not until every voice carries across the star-spangled sky
Not until the vivid spectrum of colors bleeds into the horizon
Will I be satisfied that life has reached perfection…
© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: horizon wallpaper
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 