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Tag: Vincent Van Gogh

The Hills are Alive with Deeds of Light

The Hills are Alive with Deeds of Light

  A dash of this, that and the Other. Some homage to Kandinsky and Van Gogh, plus my own dreams and walking visions.  It’s been much too long since I. Far too many months since I. Since I found my mountain tops. Since I floated there, with the wind, and music, and grief. Glad grief because of where I was, and where I floated. Because the sun was shining down on me and mine. Me and my shadow dreams. This…

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Across the Universe

Across the Universe

  Blue Shift   It’s not just that stars Are yellow photographs Left for Kafka to enfable It’s not just that stars Cover histories and make Puppets for Rilke They really do light our nights Like flash bulbs in Arabia A Mosque open skyward A mirage of water To die for Wicked games above us These stars fall on Rimbaud And replace his guns His Abyssinnia With teenaged boats And lapping Cresting waves Like night cafés In Arles for Vincent…

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Battle at Arles

Battle at Arles

A poem in progress, after reading some more letters from the Van Gogh collection. Reminds me yet again how much he was able to fill his days to the brim. With deep thought, emotion, deep reading and seeking. He packed a great deal of life into his 37 years.   The Ear   It was not what he wanted To lose a friend Gauguin his brother in Art Gauguin his kindred spirit In the maze of being For colors For…

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Looking at Ourselves

Looking at Ourselves

Look. Really look. And listen. So few of us do. Which is a bit of a contradiction, and perhaps even a paradox, given the fact that we so often are very much self-involved and self-centered. But we don’t see the Self. We don’t hear it. Or its multiplicity. I think the aggressive ones, the financial winners, the political and social elite, rush headlong toward their goals, most without knowing who is behind that rush, behind the desires. They do so…

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