Dark and Light

Tags

amreading, amwriting, dark, despair, Flash Poesy, hope, light, poetry, writerscommunity

Dark and Light

The morning was dark as night

the evening bright, as the moon,

stars, and constellations

illuminated my path

There is light among the darkness

and shadows of darkness in light

The magic is to find the beam of hope

whether it’s daytime or night.

©S.E.Sanders 2020

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The Hill, inspired by Gabriele Munter’s Jawlensky and Werefkin, 1908 #HappyWomensDay

Tags

amreading, amwriting, change, equality, Flash Poesy, love, memories, perseverance, persistance, war, women, Women's Day, women's rights

Gabriele Munter, Jawlensky and Werefkin, 1908

 

 

I have always been inspired by Gabriele Munter’s paintings, especially this particular one, Jawlensky and Werefkin, 1908, which tells me a story.

Gabriele Munter , one of the few women artists in early 20th century, who were recognised by the male-dominated art world. I have great respect for her.

I thought I’d written a flash fiction story inspired by this painting, a while ago. It turns out to be a poem. I’m no poet, this probably needs editing, but perhaps that was the only way I could express my feelings.

 

The Hill

(1908-1948)

 

 

We sit at the top of the hill,

under the cosy spring sun,

and watch the world below

 

The bouquet of flowers you pick on the way up,

I fix to the ribbon around my plain straw hat,

and feel like a member of the nobility.

 

My eyes shifting to the puffy, white clouds,

I dream a bright future for us

You observe the movements of the ants,

and say, we must be so well-organized

 

 

I still remember that day, my love,

though I lost you to the insidious war.

Left with two young children,

in the shambles of our dream house,

I had to work to support them.

 

It’s been forty years since that day,

with another war claiming lives.

Grateful that our children have survived it,

I’m now a retired grandmother looking after theirs

 

The world has changed so much,

you wouldn’t believe it

We don’t have to wear fancy hats and long dresses,

even gloves have gone out of style.

 

Women can vote, go to universities,

and become professionals.

Life is easy with telephones, radio,

automobiles, electric trains, and airplanes,

so thoroughly organized.

 

I still live in our restored dream house,

and go up the hill to celebrate our anniversary each year.

Though much has changed,

spring flowers decorating my straw hat,

the puffy, white clouds above, and the village

have stayed the same.

 

 

Sometimes I miss the elegance of the past,

though life is much simpler now.

But I miss you most of all,

and have never found anything

to replace your love.

 

Happy Women’s Day!

 

Thank you for reading. 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fresh

Tags

dreams, expired, Flash Poesy, fresh, hope, new, old, stale, stifling

 

Departure of the Winged Ship, Vladimir Kush 

http://www.beautifullife.info/art-works/surrealistic-paintings-by-vladimir-kush/

 

 

August heat lingers,

like a lover who doesn’t want to

end a long gone affair

I need a new beginning

with September,

a fresh chemistry

where we discover

each other on

virgin territory

crisp as white linens

that carry the aroma of the sea

and laid on the bed

to conjure dreams

that have never been

travelled,

hopes that have never been

expressed,

words that have never been

spoken.

La Belle Époque is at The Rye Whiskey Review

Tags

Flash Poesy, La Belle Epoque, publication, The Rye Whiskey Review

 

I’m back at the Bar, sipping more Rye Whiskey. Many thanks to John Patrick Robbins, Poet and Editor-in-Chief  of The Rye Whiskey Review, for letting me in. 

 

 

La Belle Époque

 

The theme of the dinner party was La Belle Époque,

in the vintage shop, I found a dress suitable for Jane Avril.

Took it home, put it on a hanger and began imagining …

The urge was great, so I slipped into it,

the lights dimmed for a moment and

I was transported to a busy bar in Paris,

champagne flowing, cigarette smoke hanging in the air,

as the pianist accompanied the sad song the soloist sang.

Toulouse came to say, “Bonne soirée, ma chérie,”

but my eye was on the young Picasso, surrounded by pretty ladies.

Hiding in the corner with Zola was Pierre Currie,

having left Marie at the laboratory with her radiation tests.

Lumiére was looking up and down my dress,

to decide on my role in his next film,

as Picasso approached and bought me drink.

Moulin Rouge, he said, or Casino de Paris or maybe even La Tour Eiffel

Toulouse wasn’t too happy about this, but he joined crowd,

carrying bottles of champagne in his hands.

We rode Lumiére’s automobile to the Eiffel with Colette,

flirting with the elegant dames, in their haute couture,

Monet, Renoir, and Cezanne followed us,

in other autos with Michelin tyres.

We danced through the night in Parc du Champ de Mars,

and on top of the tower, watching Paris and then,

stopped at Moulin Rouge, meeting,

Andre Gide, Baudelaire, Mussorgsky and Stravinsky there.

Joie de vivre, absinthe, Can-can, poetry,

music, art, and literature hand in hand,

we roamed through Monmartre,  Folies Bergére,

visiting each and every drinking hole,

cabaret, burlesque show, and ended up at the Ritz.

And we danced, and we danced, and we danced,

And I danced, and I danced, and I danced,

clinging to my dress …

 

link:

https://ryethewhiskeyreview.blogspot.com/2018/08/la-belle-epoque-by-sebnem-e-sanders.html

 

:

 

Photo credit. -la-belle-epoque-de-jules-cheret-de-l-affiche-au-decor.jpg (800×1119) Old French Posters and Advertisements

 

Happy New Year!

Tags

damaged, endurance, experience, Flash Poesy, flaws, human, imperfections, learning, mediocre, strengths, vulnerability, weaknesses, wishes

 

Wishes

I wish I were taller

wish I were stronger

but I’m not

sometimes I lack the strength

mediocre, vulnerable, and weak

I rise from the shards of my psyche

damaged, cracked and chipped along the edges

but not defeated, yet-

only human,

with my imperfections.

Happy Winter Solstice, Season’s Greetings and Happy New Year! The Pomegranate Tree

Tags

awareness, Flash Poesy, new year, oneness, poetry, pomegranate tree, prosperity, Season's Greetings

Something from the past!

sebnemsanders

The Pomegranate Tree

The crimson blossoms of

the pomegranate tree in springtime,

turn into magical red globes during summer,

giving us ample fruit with sparkling ruby seeds inside.

A treasure within a treasure,

a chest within a chest,

one that contains many,

each seed from the heavens,

a sacred gift of Mother Nature,

heralding prosperity, nourishment, and health.

Let’s tie many coloured ribbons on the tree of plenty

and make wishes for happiness, peace and oneness.

Although Saint Nicholas has his home in these lands,

he’s busy carrying gifts to other children around the world,

but will be here on the 31st to celebrate

New Year’s Eve.

Let’s hope our tree will attract

 the birds and creatures upon Gaia and

when the gathering is complete,

with a full audience,

we’ll crack the pomegranates on the ground,

spreading prosperity around the globe,

to all the children and people of the world.

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La Belle Époque

Tags

art, bar, Can Can, Dance, Dress, Flash Poesy, La Belle Epoque, music, Paris, time-travel

Something from the past as I’m editing, re-editing, revising my stories …

sebnemsanders

The theme of the dinner party was La Belle Époque,

In the vintage shop, I found a dress befitting Jane Avril.

Took it home, put it on a hanger and began imagining…

The urge was great, so I slipped into it.

The lights dimmed for a moment and

I was transported to a busy bar in Paris.

Champagne flowing, cigarette smoke hanging in the air,

as the pianist accompanied the sad song the soloist sang.

Toulouse came to say “Bonne soirée, ma chérie”,

but my eye was on the young Picasso, surrounded by alluring ladies.

Hiding in the corner with Zola was Pierre Currie,

having left Marie at the laboratory with her radiation tests.

Lumiére was looking up and down my gown,

to decide on my next role in his film,

as Picasso approached and bought me drink.

Moulin Rouge, he said, or Casino de Paris or maybe even La Tour…

View original post 137 more words

Cleopatra’s Island

Tags

amreading, amwriting, Cedar Island, Cedrae Island, Cleopatra Island, eternity, Flash Poesy, golden sand, Honeymoon, love, Mark Antony, Marmaris, poetry, Sedir Adası, Southern Aegean, the kiss

Cedar Island, Cedrae Island, Sedir Adası, Marmaris, Muğla, Turkey

The features of the sand is that each grain is equally 1 mm in diameter, burns when thrown in fire, multiples by itself in soda water, and shows spontaneous proliferation when you look at it under the magnifying glass. Indeed, the only other region of the world where this sand can be found is in the Red Sea.

https://keremkaraer.wordpress.com/places-visit/cedar-island/

 

The sands of Cleopatra’s Beach
glitter like gold
under the rays of the amber sun
Each grain, a perfect sphere,
Antony shipped all the way from
Egypt to Cedar Island in the Aegean
for their honeymoon
The specks of her Tiger’s Eye gaze,
reflecting the shimmer,
she beams and hints her approval

Yellow mimosa buds peeking between
the delicate leaves of the acacia trees on the hills
recall the scene under the cerulean sky,
and how she listened to the songs
of the flaxen wheat right before harvest,
coming from the mainland.

She strokes his sun-streaked hair and
gazes into his honey-coloured eyes.
A kiss, a promise of eternity falls into the sea
The golden moon rising behind the hills,
beholds the view and vows,
giving life to the sand forever,
to carry their story into the future.

 

The Dark Knight, a poem for Midsummer Night

Tags

amreading, amwriting, attraction, Dark Knight, eternal love, eternity, fate, Flash Poesy, life, loss, love, Midsummer Night, Raven, summer solstice

 

Whisper by Burak Ulker, from Deviantart

(Please click on the photo to see more of his work)

 

 

On midsummer’s eve dance, under the moonlight,

I met a dark man who stole my heart,

he held my hand to his lips,

and on the dance floor gave me a kiss.

 

A raven perched upon his shoulder, and said until daylight.

 

His black costume fitted like a glove,

at first look I’d fallen in love,

mesmerizing dark eyes held me captive,

the way he spoke was so attractive.

 

The raven came by and said lovers should not part.

 

He poured summer wine from the flask,

and told me stories from strange lands.

When he asked me to go there with him,

I accepted on a whim.

 

The raven flew over us and said now it’s time to depart.

 

I said, one moment, to bid farewell to my hosts,

when I returned, he was gone and I was lost,

I looked for him everywhere, the raven

came my way, as the moon and stars faded away.

 

The raven said a moment can change the night into day.

 

The rain began as the first rays of dawn lit my way,

under a tree and the sky so grey,

soaked and sad, I took shelter,

and sobbed, knowing I’d remember him forever.

 

The raven said love is eternal though you might never again be together.

 

I still recall that midsummer’s night,

and the dark knight who stole my heart,

Hoping perhaps in another life,

we shall meet again and never part.

 

The raven keeps me company, says life is but a brief story.