The Art of Conversation and Titian
Hail to the thieves
that retrieve
lost trees.
Hey! Where do you disappear?
Hail to the piercing taste of a pear.
Hey! Why do you gaze at me so?
I don't need reality unless it's mine.
Talk to me.
Talk to me.
Take your time and sigh.
See the world redesigned.
Then let it go.
Sell sunbeams in a crisis.
Talk to the stones that turn.
Touch the rhythm and burn with it.
Celebrate both victory and defeat.
See what's featured in the cosmic menu.
Among all the amenities I obtain you.
The art of grabbing without touching.
The art of dreaming without falling asleep.
The art of loathing without telling.
The art that picks the hip from the heaps
of all their winnings.
The art of elusive light.
The art of being close tonight
and disappearing tomorrow.
The art of 'have-a-nice-day'
with a finger on a trigger.
The art of getting miniscule
and then growing bigger.
The art that unites all nations -
the everlasting
misconception
of communication.
05/06/2016
(c) Maryna Tchianova 2016
Ukraine
Inspired by http://www.wikiart.org/en/rene-magritte/the-art-of-conversation-1950?utm_source=returned&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=referral
* * *
Sacred and profane love by Titian (1514)
Love divine
How it burns when it falls from the sky -
how it hurts when the water is done.
How it rains with the words half-denied,
When the world looks for fabulous suns.
How it aches when the feeling's away
from the roads that are fast and are clean.
How it roars when the lights are insane,
how they fatefully touch our skin.
How I pray for this love not to fade,
How I look for your eyes in the woods,
How we crave for emotional shade,
In each other we find our roots.
Profane love
When the touch dumbs us down -
when the shadows arise,
When in passion whe drown,
when there's evil disguised.
When your kiss, black as night,
slowly turns on my key,
when your arms, full of might,
burn my fragility,
When we're fruitful and hot,
when we're lost in our dreams,
When we're tied with love's knots,
So profane we might seem.
06.05.2016
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