you tell me that the leaves of the sycamore are starting to curl
at the edges
and the purple of the thistles deepens like expensive silk.
with a swift gesture that takes possession of your needless
melancholy
(your pale longing, uncalled-for in the turmoil of my blood)
i brush away this early autumn from yet another year of waiting
what do i care, i have my poppies, wounds breaking open
on my skin of delight, their flames hidden
behind the veil of my hair (otherwise
you would have gone blind by now, my gentle love).
i am the exalted gardener of a poison you'll never know,
blessed be my pity.
soon, very soon, they will open their hungry mouths to devour me.
and you will climb your sycamore, trembling
for a glimpse of the holy, still unable to see
the face of the god in my exacting arts of destruction
when like the old queen of Carthage i glow
towards my erasure, my glorious feast,
alone.
at the edges
and the purple of the thistles deepens like expensive silk.
with a swift gesture that takes possession of your needless
melancholy
(your pale longing, uncalled-for in the turmoil of my blood)
i brush away this early autumn from yet another year of waiting
what do i care, i have my poppies, wounds breaking open
on my skin of delight, their flames hidden
behind the veil of my hair (otherwise
you would have gone blind by now, my gentle love).
i am the exalted gardener of a poison you'll never know,
blessed be my pity.
soon, very soon, they will open their hungry mouths to devour me.
and you will climb your sycamore, trembling
for a glimpse of the holy, still unable to see
the face of the god in my exacting arts of destruction
when like the old queen of Carthage i glow
towards my erasure, my glorious feast,
alone.
.
.
Evocative, lush.
ReplyDeleteAh bonjour chère Roxana, merci encore pour tes gentils mots.
ReplyDeleteC'est un autre chef-d'oeuvre sans doute.
c'est tellement puissante la flamme de l'amour juxtaposé avec les couleurs de violations mais les belles couleurs alors tu plonges dans la paradoxe de l'amour et de la vie.
So here is my dream for today.LOve isn't shared but given causing an open gaping wound in the ego that has been dismantled.
and yes therefore the gardener of love cultivates the poisonous flowers of flesh.
C'est magnifique le texte et l'image.
Roxana it is so enriching for me to come here and share these stories.they are just fleeting thoughts not necessarily truths but I guess they have some validity or they wouldn't come into play at all.
thankyou dear beautiful new friend Roxana.
belle journée magique comme d'habitude.
Oh, what astonishing power and texture. And glorious perfume, too. You are such a complete artist, Roxana,
ReplyDeletecoucou Roxana..
ReplyDeleteune petite visite presque matinale..j'ai butiné de fleurs en fleurs, de photo en photo..de poétesse en poésie..
j'aime cette sensation, ce sentiment de pénétrer dans un univers hors du temps et des limites..hors de ce que l'on connait dans la photographie..
tu es une référence pour moi..j'aime ton art..et ça me comble toujours de passer un moment là, dans ton monde..
merci pour tous ces moments ..merci aussi pour ce que tu apportes a mon blog par ta présence..c'est comme un rayon de soleil par exemple..:o)
je t'embrasse bien fort douce et belle Roxana...
continues de nous emporter dans tes rêves..
Hello,
ReplyDeleteAfter many days, a hello. what a poem! you have the flair to express hunger and melancholy in the same line, in the same breath. it looks like early autumn, i thought today, and i read your poem in the hushed silence of anticipation and longing, mixed desires evoked by the colour of your flowers and the sadness and musical longing of skin.
How are you generally? I have been away and here and have visited your blog a few times. i have been reading some Judith Butler, her essays on photography and i remembered you. i have been involved in mundane practical life, interrupted by some poetry, some reading and autumn is nearly here!I have written a few times on my blog this year, just a few bits but i seem to have lost the physical motivation to actually concentrate and write a few bits and pieces.
Hope you are well, and if you happen to be in London, we must not forget to meet!Stay in touch.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
ReplyDeleteThou art more lovely and more temperate;
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
For me, those poppies have been transformed into pulsing hearts. The colors deep rich jewel tones seen through those hairlike wisps. Yes, as merc said, evocative and lush. The poem is beautifully written and is a perfect accompaniment for the music of the images. Devastating.
ReplyDeletei hope you are well, dearest. There is so much sadness in your voice.
ReplyDeleteI could LIVE inside that first picture. These images and your words (and the strands of your hair) feel so intimate. Mmmmm, those colours! Intoxicating.
ReplyDeleteJe voulais te dire un truc... et... zé un ceveu dans la bouche... Ze revindrais et... si... te dire quand même que la vision à travers tes poils... sorry... cheveux est décidemment d'une grande originalité ! Tes photos sont splendides Roxana...!
ReplyDeleteZe me moque pas de toi ! ! ! ...:)
Bizes Roxana...:)
Tu fais quoi cette année ?...(:{
..die dunklen Gedanken, manche Menschen lieben sie und hüten sie. Auch ich habe sie geliebt und sie vertieft, nicht wie heute, denn ich weiss, dass die Worte eines grossen Meisters wahr sind, nämlich, dass alles zuerst in Gedanken entsteht... Deine vor allem "unverhüllten" Bilder sind wundervoll und lassen Luft zum Atmen. Danke Dir für Deine schönen Worte für Robert und mich, die mir viel Freude brachten!
ReplyDeleteIch umarme Dich lieb! Eine sehr schöne, innerlich stille Woche für Dich, liebe Roxana!
Renée
no no - this queen of Carthage shan't perish! she gloriously feasts on the deepest colours. She has her poppies! she has the turmoil of her blood! melancholy becomes needless then...
ReplyDelete(biding my time until autumn - i feast on those colours of yours)
As if seen through your eyelashes ... closed, opened again ... life's to be seen
ReplyDeletehello roxana
ReplyDeletealors là tu me surprends de jour en jour avec ce mélange fabuleux de ces fleurs avec cette si belle texture que l'on appelle chevelure !
c'est si beau que j'y retourne ...
Having just been thoroughly unraveled by Nevine's poem, which I think you might appreciate ... can be found here :
ReplyDeletehttp://nevine-sultan.blogspot.com/
Then I come over here, only to be even more completely unraveled by the sheer beauty of these lights, mystical lights and colors and shadows and glowing, the blood red petals of poppies, the heartbeat of the poet behind it all, her voice echoing in the night; was it the moon speaking, or her, her, her ?
din parul tau eu imi ivesc nuantele si ma ascund,dupa cate un fir,si uneori iti pleci capul,si uneori il ridici,si firele se joaca tandru cu mine, la acest festin daltuit cu matase capilara si decorat cu zbor chagall-ian.odihnindu-ma,la racoarea albastra a macului,tu
ReplyDeleteDear Roxana,
ReplyDeleteI just came across a blog which I think you may enjoy, perhaps enjoy considerably, I think it may be a distant sister of yours... she is perhaps communicating with your subconscious unbeknownst to you. If you have a moment do take a look at :
http://unmarsinapuros.blogspot.com/
And look back into her back posts a little, some I think you will really appreciate, magical women, secret women, and raw nature...
i love the way these poppies / chalices / hearts smolder with the burn of their dark light and lift it (cherish its destruction) … until it overflows, whetting the borders of the petals (especially in the first photo) to a bright and dangerous edge … and the poppies’ glow, caught and tangled, netted in the black hair of this Maenad or Sybil, where we, too, are caught, tangled, netted … the poem (which i love) with its long rhythms and seductive language (“soon, very soon, they will open their hungry mouths to devour me,” “when like the old queen of Carthage i glow/ towards my erasure, my glorious feast, / alone”) is the perfect mirror for all this, and i approach this post just like the little man in his sycamore, with his hunger for the face of god, driven by irresistible longing and dread for the promised, threatened transformation … thank you for this glimpse of the holy --- not described, but given, enacted here….
ReplyDeletemy dear ones, so full of warmth and patience, i had to post tonight, you will see why, but now i am too tired, so the answers will have to wait until tomorrow :-)
ReplyDeletethank you, my dear merc.
ReplyDeleteamar, i am so happy to have you here, and that you feel the Bridge enriches you in some way. i love how you put this:
"therefore the gardener of love cultivates the poisonous flowers of flesh."
wonderful...
je te souhaite un debut d'autumne plein de creatitivite et de douceur. je t'embrasse, ma chere.
Lydia, i am honoured!
clo!!! tu es venue... ah, tu me manques deja. mais si tu viens me voir de temps en temps, ca aiderait un peu :-)
je t'embrasse et pense a toi, j'espere que tout va bien et tu es contente.
Kubla, hi
ReplyDeletethank you for coming on the Bridge. as usual, it means a lot to me that you find any of my little poems of interest. i always come to check if you posted something new and am very happy and you do, even if rarely recently.
strange, indeed, i find myself thinking the same: autumn is here again, how is this possible...
i hope we will continue to be friends.
Ian, lovely, isn't it? thank you for such a gift :-)
Stickup Artist, your warm and thoughtful words are precious to me.
Prospero, perhaps this is the Bridge's nature, to be tinged with sadness? thank you for asking, it means a lot to me, more than you could ever know.
dear intoxicated Lynne, thank you so much :-)
ReplyDeleteJeff, je m'excuse mais je dois avouer que j'ai un probleme avec ton style dans tes derniers commentaires, il y en un que je n'ai pas publie, je suis desolee. peut-etre suis-je dans un etat d'esprit qui me fait moins sensible a ton genre d'humour, "te dire quand même que la vision à travers tes poils... sorry... cheveux est décidemment d'une grande originalité ! ". je me suis dit que je devrais te le dire, si je sens que quelque chose depasse les limites de ce que je considere "decent".
en tout cas, tu es toujours le bienvenu ici, je te prierai seulement de respecter mon souhait.
bises...
liebste Renee, und mir ist eine Freude, dass du hier bist und mich als deine Freundin siehst und mich umarmst. ich laechele dir sanft zurueck...
ReplyDeletefff, then she won't perish, this fierce queen of Carthage, i'll keep her alive, just for you :-)
Robert, your poetic visions make me always dream...
Karine, merci de tout coeur, tu es si gentille...
ReplyDeleteah, dear Owen, such questions, who could answer? only the night the night the night :-)
(thank you from my heart, as always)
ps. and as always, you discover the most lovely blogs, thank you for the recommendation...
cerasela, cuvintele tare recreeaza vara in mine, deja pierduta
James, you write:
"i approach this post just like the little man in his sycamore, with his hunger for the face of god, driven by irresistible longing and dread for the promised, threatened transformation … thank you for this glimpse of the holy --- not described, but given, enacted here…."
and i ask myself: do i deserve this? it feels that these poppies had to be contemplated like this, through that dark veil, re-invented in those words, so that you might see the glimpse of the holy in them - if this is true, than the Bridge could also remain quiet, from now on, her aim fulfilled :-)
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteIl est vrai que ces photos sont superbes... et mon commentaire totalement décalé !
ReplyDeleteJe débarque comme un cheveu sur la soupe !
La Grande Artiste que tu es voudra bien m'excuser pour cet écart de vocabulaire... peut-être indécent à tes yeux...
Promis, je serais plus sage à l'avenir...;)
Amitiés !
Jeff
tu rames mon jeff !
ReplyDeletefallait pas supprimer ton avant dernier post et en mettre un autre !
moi j'aurais attendu la réponse de roxana :-)
Actually Roxana to step back from my comment on your recent post I feel this post also has a cosmic theme which is always a component of powerful art.
ReplyDeleteWonderful
ReplyDeletework
good
creations
Jeff, j'espere de tout coeur que tu n'es pas fache? et je te remercie pour la delicatesse d'avoir compris mes sentiments...
ReplyDeletethank you so much for visiting and your kind words, Skizo...
ReplyDeleteLe texte est Laurentides Roxana! j'aime beaucoup. Les clichés sont très réussit en transparence comme un voile de soie.
ReplyDeleteThis is indeed a feast of impeccable photos.
ReplyDeleteLooking at these photos I imagined thousands of ways you could surrender. But then I have surrendered to your beauty.
merci Allan, j'ai vraiment photographie a travers le voile de mes cheveux :-)
ReplyDeleteG
:-)