Night Moves

Woman With a Towel, 1898, Edgar Degas 

Night Moves

I am moved by silence and the quiet

night that brings no sleep.

In the shower, water gliding down

  arms and face,

A soft wrap of white around

my waist

prepare me for a feast

where I alone will dine.

A dash of pepper, cumin, oregano,

 rice wine and more

over long strings of transparency,

Noodles that shimmer sensuous

in a cradle of soup.

Refreshed and fed by
the silence of the night,
 After all this, I may sleep.

-Gerry@Strummed Words

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In the Kitchen: Just Havin' Fun

Between Heaven and Hell, 1989 by Jacek Yerka 

Between chaos and inevitable peace
I take eggs and ham for us each
for our Sunday Easter break fast,
A stirring that should not hamper
my making a delicious repast.

The pastoral view on my left
keeps me grounded, while the cleft
of dark clouds from the scorched earth
on my right wonders if it's worth
my frantic search for an inbetween.

I'd rather look through the clear window
than step through that yawning space so near
to my back door. I think I'll have to stay in,
between heaven hell, in my own kitsch in.

-Gerry@Strummed Words

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Facing Forward

Not to be Reproduced, 1937 by the Belgian surrealist René Magritte

I watch myself facing forward,
Turn my back to the past,
Veil my features from those
who watch behind me.

I would not have you peer
unwanted, into face and eyes,
those windows of the soul
misted with a mystery

I will not share.



 -Gerry@Strummed Words

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Reflections: Poetry Jam

Reflect

My face in the mirror of your eyes

Comes back to linger,

 memories

Time gone by, an evanescent future.

Your views of broad blue waters

Outside a glass of wide recall,

deep dwellings

That run over my own warm seas.

- Gerry@ Strummed Words

for Poetry Jam 

The Artist and His Muse

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Faun, Horse, and Bird, 1936 Pablo Picasso

Horned beast, the half-man,
Part bird, part horse,
The artist describes
His muse.

A beast looking to the ground,
A winged creature flying through the air,
A four-footed animal neighing in the wind,
The artist complete. 

Or does he ponder life, the world,
and not himself, in all it's aspects?


- Gerry@Strummed Words