I would love to take this warm August night
that stretches like a soft fog over the garden
and preserve it as a green fragrant scarf
for the cold winter nights.
I would love to wrap around me this warm August night
when everything is so tranquil and we are all alive,
I would weave my thoughts like threads into this scarf
for all dark days with clouds, but no silver lining,
for times when I am lost and floating in an unfriendly universe,
for days that happen to show up from nowhere
when something persistently nags my subconscious mind.
Our life has so many broken dreams and forgotten promises.
I would love to take this warm August night
and fold it neatly as a green fragrant scarf
and put it away,
put it away so far that I hardly can find it,
so far away that when I find it
I can recall this warm August night
and believe the sadness disappears with the fading darkness of night
and this scarf feels again like a warm fog around my shoulders
to prevent from death and frost.
It would be wonderful to put our precious moments safely away in a favorite item. Lovely!
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That would be wonderful and so good: just get to any moment frozen in time whenever there’s a real need for that.
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It would be enchanting if there was a wrinkle in time that we could step through and enjoy again the everyday extraordinary.
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Yes, that would be such a perfect opportunity.
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What a wonderful thought. Lovely poem.
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Thanks Brenda! I highly appreciate your opinion on this since you’re such an experienced writer.
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I’ve been thinking about submitting a poem to the Silver Birch Press If I Series, and your poem made me think of one. It hasn’t coalesced yet, but it’s humming somewhere.
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Nice! I am influenced since I was 12 years old by Rainer Maria Rilke, Yessenin, Akhmatova, etc. which I read in original, some Latvian early 20th century poets. I love light sadness or philosophy in poems, so that’s where I come from.
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I think a poem is a journey toward a discovery, a thought or a blossoming of emotion. Sometimes it’s a window into a person we used to be. Or a wish. I like to travel into a poem. To find a piece of myself there. I’ve read Rilke and very much like him, as translated. I don’t know the others.
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You are pretty much my soulmate since I love exactly that. Rilke had taken me over to extent that I tried everything to just get one original book of his, I read German, so, yes, it is impressive. I did translate into Latvian some of his poems, too.
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I had started to prepare to paint again when I got pregnant with my daughter, seven years ago. The smell of turpentine, I couldn’t bear when pregnant. I had a caesarian, and than a year later, severe back pain that needed surgery. I started writing instead of painting because of physical limitations. I’ve now invested years into my writing. If I had put those 7-8 years into art… I’d be selling paintings and swimming in canvases. Instead, my art skills are weak, but I have reclaimed poetry. Perhaps you need some time with your poetry.
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I cannot use oils either, I have abnormal sensitivity to them, tha’s why I am using watercolor, pastel and acrylic. I love writing, but is so that I always compare how well I can write in a native language and how weak it still is in English or other languages. Poetry requires very nuances of verbal expression and I always want my writing to be as a verbal picture, I am here and there lacking the full range of synonyms and other expressions.
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These are skills that aren’t natural, but can be developed. I have the same problems with art. I took a class in oils, and I feel more confident in that. I know there’s a lot of technique to watercolor and acrylic. I should take a few classes. Right now I am frustrated when I try to do something. Writing is easier for me. I only have the one language to worry about. 🙂
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Sure, writing in your native language is such a huge plus. Oils are easier, and they allow achieving special effects much easier, but if I cannot use then, so that’s about it, I just cannot. I get completely sick. I tried water soluble oils, and I didn’t like them, fairly poor quality, the same lack of brilliance and brightness of whites and lights as in acrylics. That’s why I hate acrylics sometimes: yellows and white shades are just really bad, even with good brands, forget about getting the beautiful white shades as with oils. It is what it is.
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Ah. Well, someday I will return to oils then. I’m not pregnant anymore. Someday I will have time again.
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But sure, because if your goal is to paint with ease and discover how beautiful even the simplest painting can be, you should go for oils. That’s not a possibility for me, but we always change. I have experienced on myself that sometimes sensitivities disappear.
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I plan to paint in my enclosed porch one summer. Fresh air. Breezes. The sensuous joy of blending with any tool that comes to hand.
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That’s a good plan!
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