Glory Sasikala shoots

It was love...dreamy...misty...love

 

Jeremy Seligson writes

GRIEF

By his gate, old man Kang

Is happy to see me

I shake his hand

And peer through

Glasses at his eyes

Brimming with water

Again, he has visited

His wife’s nursing home

And has returned

To an empty house ~

Those be tears, full

To the rims, cups

Of dew, soon

Overflowing

 The Grief -- Pascal Fessler

DJ Tyrer writes

Portrait

Swan neck
Blonde hair piled high
Mona Lisa smile
Immortalised
In pastels

Ritratto Femminile con Orecchini (Female Portrait with Earrings) -- Amedeo Modigliani

Rik George writes

El Amor Pasa


Some rite should mark the death of love,
some moment lovers declare love dead,
with ceremony, then take their leave
of one another with ritual graces.
There should be words the parsons read
with solemn sorrow on their faces
in chapels filled with candle light.
We’ll have to stumble as best we can
through awkward meetings in public places.
We have no comforting parting rite.
Love died between us, I don’t know when.
Your love for me was first to go,
then, some time, mine for you was gone;
no ritual marked the when and how.

["El  amor pasa" is literally "love passes" in Spanish, but the phrase means "love happens."] 

 La muerte del amor [The death of love] -- Arantzazu  Martinez

Duane Vorhees writes

Another Spring Night in Farmersville, Ohio

The sun is a gong hung low across the sky.
windswept.earthdirty.sunwhipped: farmers wait inside their bones
for the horizon to rise and beat the daylights out of the sun
and call them from their long dungrows for a night.

Your chastity's a song sung slow through long nights
on muffled virginals: muting babies wailing to be born:
baiting the summons of some greedclad huntsman with silvern horn,
golden arrows, a thong-strung bow.                the dream knight.

The night is calling: strong, gung-ho -- black hawk in flight. 
(tonight? When one earthtired husbandman works me in his hands
& periods this dry chaste day, waters these furrows hungry from famine? 

But no. 

            Just one more wrongtongued crow in flight.) 

Igor Baskin paints

ShortcArt by Igor Baskin

ShortcArt: 'Poetry of Shortcuts and Headlines'
project by Igor Baskin

Scientists video Samarin D. Podlednoe whale

2018.03.22 | my planet

.
https://www.facebook.com/shortcutart/

Jeremy Toombs writes

Carry On

The  land in form of fields: corn, wheat, tobacco, soybeans.

With a sigh I know I'm not likely to live here.

Middle-aged now, nearly, for the first time

I feel the pull of home.

Home in the early summer heat, trees, old stories and ruminations.


I've been gone now so long from home.

What could I do now

but carry on?

Happy Hour -- Anthony Benton Gude

 Endless Highway -- Bob Dylan

Daginne Aignend writes

Nirvana 

The tears of Empathy

quench the thirsty stones

of the desolate mind

of the withered creature

called Loneliness.

Loneliness, hesitant,

starts to lick the saline liquid

First of the smallest pebbles

A droplet of Hope is seeping through

the cracked surface,

as suddenly Greed arrives

Greed overwhelms Loneliness,

makes its fibers swell

until they explode

Pleasant streams

of comforting Silence mingled

with calm Serenity

Ending in a total Nothing

NIRVANA

Loneliness -- Gabrielle Gaulin

Greed --  Gabrielle Gaulin

 

"Nothing makes us more vulnerable than loneliness, except greed." -- Thomas Harris, "The Silence of the Lambs"