In those streets of buildings
by Frank Lloyd and Corbusier
I dreamed of my dry landscape...
In those temples of sumptuous
mystery, I dreamed of the little chapel
of São João...
On the fast High Ways, I dreamed
the trails of xique xique...
In the monumental parks,
of those megalopolises, I dreamed
of the backyard of the caatingas...
In those exploded Meccas,
I dreamed of my shotgun
of soca-soca...
In the nightclubs of
high society, I dreamed
of Zé Lagoa's relaxation bal masquê...
I confess that I lived in those worlds,
but I never left home...!
Categories:
vivant, allusion, analogy, creation, fantasy,
Form: Free verse
Lugubrious blue mood skies funereal and morose shed raindrops,
they unleash tableau vivant torrent’s wet tranche,
blessing, bane or boon from vault of heaven,
damp pearl blob bewitching moisture mellow morph form,
the stuff of less than benign grumpy weather grouch,
whose plight infuses yen for sun-drenched bliss,
haven of the ultra-violet swathe enthusiast,
for others raindrops are a liquid gem relish firmament bequeathed,
to whet voracious craving of nascent pastures,
whose gaunt green blade emaciating stillborn,
that aqueous honey to hue-blazed floral garden in situ bloomers,
who swallow cloudburst drizzle meed in muted slurps,
droplet streak and spiral bubble patten on top hung awning window,
empyrean tear beads that roof top tap dance ritual,
so tantalising to the awestruck spellbound eardrum,
or impromptu downward dribbles on romantic saunterers,
prompting boisterous laughter as they flaunt their dome transparent chromium truss umbrella,
those enraptured red-blooded refugees beneath tilting gust spun bumbershoot,
as mud splatter cherry cheek urchins shriek,
amid the spray and splash globules at agile finger tips
Categories:
vivant, appreciation, beautiful, beauty, celebration,
Form: Grook
Candid and fully exposed as the theatre’s light dims
She stands poised, dauntless disciplined and statuesque
A stance both stalwart and defiant yet supple are her limbs
Mango hued flower, shoulder's thrown back thrusting her breast
He sits rapped by intrigue as he studies her movement
A silver fox and raven mane is neatly brushed regally back
To beautify him further would take divine improvement
Only to be bathed in her impassioned embrace does he lack
Swirls of sangria red fabric charge like El toro spark undulating trails
Laced in pearly white with azure blue print mesmerize and highlight
And flow about her generous hips in a rage of billowing canvas sails
Flamenco dancers firm legs are revealed in fish nets that boldly invite
Whilst her furtive glimpse ignites his cavalier bon vivant smile
She bewiles with onyx eyes that glisten and fingers splayed for effect
He connects in a flash with a performers come hither guile
Upon times eternal river this fiery night's tryst they shall reflect
Categories:
vivant, romantic,
Form: Quatrain
Domestic interiors
falling pearls
of splendour
the everday
in
quiet,calm
still snapshots
of life
hints of the unsaid
Indelible
seared deep
in memory
Unsolved enigmas
conjecture preserved
in paint
Silent sounds
echo
& stir
with familiarity
the moments of interplay
vivant
intimate
intricate details
begin the beguine
joys outflows
perfection
preserves the serene
mirrors the sublime
with emphasis
& suggestion
stresses
of the fanciful
&the significant
with
implications
&illusions
Categories:
vivant, art,
Form: Didactic
I wonder now,
If the life of an elephant is worth less than the life of a man,
Men are so vulgar, wicked and vicious,
Men are so inhuman, poor country,
Why shouldn’t an elephant be allowed to breathe?
Allowed to live upright, to love the savannah?
What happened to our past adventures?
What happened to our deepest desires?
The elephant is noble and valiant, courageous,
The sun shines for him as much as for us,
The elephant also knows that he is alive on this earth,
Let him enjoy the view, the life, the day, his children,
His soul is probably more beautiful than ours.
Je me demande désormais,
Si la vie d’un éléphant, vaut moins que la vie d’un homme,
Les hommes sont si vulgaires, méchants et vicieux,
Les hommes sont si inhumains, pauvre pays,
Pourquoi un éléphant n’aurait-il pas le droit de respirer ?
De vivre debout, d’aimer la savane ?
Que sont devenues nos aventures passées ?
Que sont devenus nos désirs profonds ?
L’éléphant est noble et valeureux, courageux,
Le soleil brille pour lui autant que pour nous,
L’éléphant sait aussi qu’il est vivant sur cette terre,
Laissons le profiter de la vue, de la vie, du jour, de ses e
Categories:
vivant, animal, environment, life,
Form: Free verse
Still life staged tableau
a living picture show
Categories:
vivant, art,
Form: Monoku
VIRGINAL GIRL
begin the beguine..
Make your music mine
LAUGHING GIRL
joy's outflow-from eyes aglow
GIRL WITH EARRING
a look of love-
into eternity's mirror
LACEMAKING GIRL
intricate detail
patient design-
portrait of time
MUSIC GIRL
when the music ends-
we no longer can pretend
LETTER GIRL
a few words
can make us ill-
or better
WINEGLASS GIRL
a girl with a glass
chateau red-
a touch of class
NECKLACE GIRL
mirror to face
with a necklace-
memory without a trace
PENSIVE LADY
lost in thought,
she sighs...caught
by vermeers eyes
PIANO GIRL
sing and play
concert,piano forte-
art,forgotten today
GUITAR GIRL
the music of the dance,
love in her glance-
to her true love,perchance?
JUG GIRL
a maid,unafraid
innocence..
displayed
LUTE GIRL
her tune,picked by ear
brings forth a tear-
yet draws us near
BALANCE GIRL
a delicate touch
frozen in time-
a story in mime
SINGING GIRL
the singers or her song
forever to us belong-
picture music vivant
THINKING GIRL
think on,think long
thought,her everyday song
Categories:
vivant, art,
Form: Ekphrasis
the light breeze
cooled the morning sun
daytrip Venice
had begun
vantage views
from a vaporetto
inch-by-inch
the skyline began to grow
St Marks cameinto view
etched on a sky so blue
tourist scrambled
from the boat
sensory feelings inside emote
ambling along piazzas wide
campanile renaissance
a city's pride
byzantine palaces bridge of sighs
facias painted
in pastel dyes
gothic churches candles ablaze
carvings to draw the gaze
depicted ceilings vivant tableau
golden bedecked reredos
pizza italiano barolo red wine
relax chat then dine
'neath parasoled
courtyard shade
as gondaliers anchor
to quayside arcade
homward along canal grande
below balconies
overhanging sun-tanned
houses emulsioned terracotta bold
kaleidoscopic memories
made manifold
Categories:
vivant, vacation,
Form: Bio
When she gave birth to you, your mom
lay resting in her bed
and wondered what you would be like
three decades up ahead.
She thought you might decide to be
a monk withdrawn from life.
You'd ponder all the mysteries
alone and far from strife.
Perhaps you'd be a bon vivant —
pursuing mirth and wine.
You'd burn through life like through a wick,
but that would be just fine.
Or you'd select a scholar's path —
a thinker deep in thought.
You'd spend your days reflecting on
what matters and does not.
Your mother would not mind if you
became the artsy type,
creating paintings, songs or yarns
and puffing on a pipe.
But then you might elect to be
political perchance.
You'd run for office and proclaim
this or another stance.
A man of science in a lab
would not have put her off.
A Nobel prize is not a goal
at which good mothers scoff.
What she could not have guessed back then
but what has since come true
is that it took you thirty years
to just emerge as... you.
Categories:
vivant, birth, birthday, career, destiny,
Form: Rhyme
It’s fall of 1888, the south of France,
In the verdant fields of Arles,
Two artists shared a single dream,
And so began their quarrel.
Vincent paved the way for Paul
With bold sunflower sprays.
Paul dissembled, stating plain,
“More practiced effort pays.”
“Don't smile before December,”
Said the mentor to his charge.
And the student pegged his better
As a bon vivant at large.
So, their tenure at the Yellow House
Grew troublesome and dark.
Their artists’ shared collective
Strayed a long way off its mark.
Dry and cold, the Mistral winds
Spread madness like a plague,
To infiltrate poor Vincent’s mind,
Whose memories grew vague.
Mania, delirium, anxiety, and fear,
Climaxed when the voices told him,
“You don’t need that ear!”
He’d heard no praise, regardless.
Dr. Rey used his sorry portrait
To fix his chicken coop.
Then Theo got engaged,
And Paul sailed away to Tahiti.
Now time’s become history,
And that paint smeared canvas,
Nailed to a chicken coop
Means to claim a hefty sum.
And Le Fou Roux lies cold in his grave,
Unmindful of the legend he’s become.
THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
STARRY NIGHTS AT SAINT REMY
Categories:
vivant, allegory, art,
Form: Ballad
Benny was a high living’ bon vivant
Who ran around with his crazy old aunt
They traveled many countries afar
Playing Spanish flamenco guitar
Until she married a man named Ben Brandt
written September 30, 2021
Categories:
vivant, humorous,
Form: Limerick
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Categories:
vivant, allegory, suicide,
Form: Lyric
the light breeze
cooled the morning sun
daytrip Venice
had begun
vantage views
from a vaporetto
inch-by-inch
the skyline began to grow
St Marks cameinto view
etched on a sky so blue
tourist scrambled
from the boat
sensory feelings inside emote
ambling along piazzas wide
campanile renaissance
a city's pride
byzantine palaces bridge of sighs
facias painted
in pastel dyes
gothic churches candles ablaze
carvings to draw the gaze
depicted ceilings vivant tableau
golden bedecked reredos
pizza italiano barolo red wine
relax chat then dine
'neath parasoled
courtyard shade
as gondaliers anchor
to quayside arcade
homward along canal grande
below balconies
overhanging sun-tanned
houses emulsioned terracotta bold
kaleidoscopic memories
made manifold
Categories:
vivant, nostalgia, places, vacation,
Form: Rhyme
BEAUTY
Always
splendor
anywhere
beyond
any
place...
SWEET LIFE
all
unconcerned
chap
ever
bon
vivant!
LONELINESS
crowd
lieu
solitaire
most
feel
loneliness...
PRESENT FUTURE
today
present
life
future
after
life... !
Categories:
vivant, allegory, allusion, analogy, extended
Form: Free verse
Vermeer sketches...he ...remembers moments of interplay vivant intimate intricate details begin the beguine & joys outflow perfection aglow enigmatic close-ups in looks of love into eternity's eyes such innocence displayed in delicate faces to tantalise lost in thought portraits in time yesterdays
preserved in paint a museum of memories in enigmas unsolved looks to read conjecture preserves the sereness between muses and our eyes
& a mirror sublime
Categories:
vivant, art, word play,
Form: Prose Poetry
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