This is a poem I scrawled late at night, before sleeping. I was already dreaming, though, very tired and spent, too. It has been a summer of such half-thoughts, and free imagination, brought by high heat and simmering light. Mid-summer night's dreams continue now. . . in formless wonder....
Above is a Picasso, title unknown, and on the right a drawing by Cocteau I believe is called Virgin.
How I love who will not have me
How I have such life unhappy
If only mutual affection
were ours - it's enough.
He who rides my rolling current
(the movement he makes rakes planets)
never knowing where he goes
on which surface . . .
Pen to my page,
this I give commanded by
such troubled angels!
Who knows me?
Who desires me?
They aren't the same.
It's lovely to come here and read this, Nicole. A poem of beautiful clarity, deep emotion and important topic. Illustrated as ever with reproductions of great paintings.
ReplyDeleteI came here the other day, didn't have the time to comment. Now when I return I seem to think you have improved it with some edits. Please tell me, have you? Or is it me.
I've probably said this before but I wish you could post more often.
Thank you, Vincent.
ReplyDeleteHmm, no I did not make any edits myself, but sometimes the computer glitches?
I wish that I could post more often, but I am also a songwriter and musician, so my artistic energy gets spread around. Late-spring to mid-fall I perform shows, but not during our Canadian winters; I dislike driving in snow, so I post more writing during those months.
If you like, you can hear some of my music here: www.myspace.com/nicoleandreaaube
I do love to blog, so I use my best judgment when posting my poems and the corresponding (in my opinion) artwork. That doesn't always leave me with much work to post. I have thought about beginning a second blog for other writings, that I don't feel "fit" this one.