Long Renoir Poems

Translation of Eric Mottram’s Courbet: Elegy 8 by T. Wignesan

Blanches oeuvres ouvertes
résident dans les jours
la surface du banc de travail est noire
les géraniums-lierres
les fougères et les adragans
accumulent leurs oeuvres et jours:
La toile noire de Courbet
un...

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1.    John Desmond Patrick Keegan
2.    Alfred, Lord Tennyson 
3.    Sally Aline Mae Beller
4.    Charles Edward A. Berry
5.    Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce...

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I do not fear you, Blue hellion of Satan! From deep within the reaches of his evil den, your master has sent your frozen azure waves crawling to my stronghold. Inch by inch, your glacial...

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In this, the fairest city of romance, and inside the marvelous museum

to which I have made my first pilgrimage as a lover of art,

I stand in contemplation, mesmerized by my first look at an original...

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(Must be read, while listening to the music link embedded in this poem, for without the music, the magic is missing).

W. E. Soundtrack- Abel Korzeniowski
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YxO1csWNKmg



"dans l'heure bleue deux"



He sits at his desk
like some frozen soulless
vintage...

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Dear Sprouting Rhymers,


To me, modern poetry could be most simply put as “everything”,
     everything that you see, experience or feel put into words.
Everything written to evoke thought and feeling in others...

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The elevator opened on the 46th floor, to a small foyer and one plain, grey door

The door opened and a young girl, 10ish, in a blue, polo, tennis dress, said, “Hi! I’m Karen, you must...

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Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever (Toller)

To “toll” is to dance like a fox
Luring mallards or teals to the rocks
Where a hunter’s awaiting
What the dog has been baiting
Scaring duckies right out of their jocks

The Old English...

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It raised more than eyebrows, to say the least,
when Manet unveiled his masterpiece
Le déjeuner sur l’herbe (Lunch on the Grass)
though the title suggested nothing crass
or provocative, much less scandalous. 
After all, a naked woman was...

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My Pet Poem, THE BETTAS

Like everyone else, I felt sorry
For the bright fish in the tiny cups,
Too many for too few homes, impossible
To think they’d not die there —
Sad,’cause it only follows:
Birds meant to fly,...

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Floating scents 
of blossoms 
Walking in the ashes 
Of Derek's heaven 
Inbound upon vision 
Falling crystal teardrops 
Summer dew 
On the ground 

Beautiful gardens surround 
Explosive in nature's beauty 
Blossoms of all shades 
Bouquet the...

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Blue Magic



               Nitrogen and oxygen meet wavelengths in a sky gathering
          ...

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Your words has made love to me under a spell
I feel just so alive inside your love sweetheart
flying echoes within beautiful songbirds singing in the valley 
Magic  whispers you're a dream stirring silver waves...

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I walk along the margins, of the shoreline of the sea,
              gathering abandoned shells, in search of a sea star;
  ...

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In this city of failed dreams
there lies a knowledge of paths
that lead in every direction that the
curious mind would want to venture.
Gold cross of resurrection in
the very midst of chaos.
Medicinal cures and healing hands
closely entwined...

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My elderly friend and I walk along
the raised flower beds
full of rainbows of blooms,
becoming the mother and daughter
in the famous Renoir painting,
now with the daughter grown up.

We slow our pace,
gazing at pink and yellow dahlias,
velvety...

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An afterlife awaits a star
on having bid its au revoir
in supernova’s days of yore,
with remnant of collapsing core
impressionistic as Renoir.

The cosmos leaves the door ajar
for astral evolution far
with pulsar winds wherefrom outpour
an afterlife.

In vast sidereal...

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Baby
I can already see it.
You
walking on a sheer floating gossamer wave
where the stars drip from the cieling like hot wax
Your hair sweeping over your eyes like a seductive ballerina
And all I can think about is...

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Lily bloom
   opening wide eyed and colorful collide
        in the sun of mid afternoon.
Bouquet blends abound 
   and hues relayed in the colors found;
...

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SHE LOVES NASCAR 
           

She loves NASCAR. 
I prefer Gaugin or Renoir 
but she loves NASCAR.

It's a southern fascination 
as Dixie as Faulkner 
or sweet...

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It was a hot Sunday afternoon in Vienna, Missouri…

If I’da been a gentleman, I would a turned my back
When I got to the swimmin’ hole today.
Instead, I hid behind a tree and spied as she...

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Poetry is the balance between each night and day

An expression of our soul's search for truth along the way

Poetry is an oasis where exhausted we are led

A meal to fill our emptiness and through which...

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I love to walk in my museum…filled with music…filled with art
It is soothing to the body, 
to the mind, the soul….the heart.

If I choose to walk in the evening…or before the dawns first light
when I...

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That is the path I've chosen,
covered with soft blades of grass
hedged with variegated hostas,
and moonlight filtering 
through hanging willow trees.
The winding path tilts slightly uphill,
towards a wooden pergola
that glimmers in the darkness,
a temple built in...

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Peach, I reach for you on that tree. 
Soft velvety skin---your cloak of mystery. 

Hanging on a branch, swaying in rhythm with the bards. 
Evade me not as I will suck your juicy innards. 

Your...

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