sprawled figures basking in the impressionist sun
shooting through a break in the clouds
he said
you are forest thick brush strokes of my outdoors
a window opening on landscapes devoid of human presence
my lack of sharpness, my fine edges
he said
you are my fleeting glimpse of forgotten languages
an ephemeral moment
lived without a straight jacket
he spoke of water lilies and japanese bridges
imprisoned in an imperfect symmetry
and a dream he had of a cuckoo
pardoned by time
your heart is river shaped
he said
your winds intensely colored and homeless
howl through my trees
i was his mother’s womb
he said
throwing his elongated shadow
on my walls as
I flung off my everything to expose
my naked body to the firing squad
* You can read more of Bojana’s work at Blogging with Bojana
This is love on a canvas, Bojana, laid bare and real and so incredibly beautiful. You never fail to impress me with your boldness and range and with your immense heart.
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My first love poem. On a canvas is right. I was inspired and felt I needed a change.
Thanks, dear.
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It is perfect! It is love as it really is!
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Love’s perfect. Art tries to imitate it.
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It is my favorite of your poems, so far…..and that is saying something.
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It sure does. Thanks, love.
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Excellent !! I love the way you write !! 👏
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As much as I like your comments. Thank you, Narasimhan.
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I can only repeat what I posted on your site:
This…this is pure brilliance and magic made real. This is not just fresh for you, it is just fucking fresh. I can’t even think of the proper adjectives to tell you!!!
This line: you are forest thick brush strokes of my outdoors
This is a world of its own wrapped in your voice. If there are people attached to the inspiration for this, they are the two luckiest people alive.
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They are, aren’t they?
I’m thrilled u like it. Thanks, dear
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A truly amazing poem.
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I’m so glad we’ve had three positive poems this week. We all felt we needed to change our tune, I guess.
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I think so. Kind of like we all saw a nice lake and needed to just dive into it.
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Yes, we needed some optimism.
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Brilliance! I love this line, “sprawled figures basking in the impressionist sun
shooting through a break in the clouds”
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Thank you. I see we both love Rodin.
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You’re welcome! We belong to the thinkers club! 🙂
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You bet. I’ll write about it one day. Promise.
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That would be great! I would love to read something on that, and I am sure your brilliant pen will craft another thoughtful piece!
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I recently got into poetry. Be free to visit my blog for more.
See u around and thanks again.
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I just started following your blog! Will read more of your work.
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Then I’ll definitely see u around.
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Now this is special. Susan was spot on. From a poetic perspective this is so far your best work. It is ethereal; it makes you think and feel at the same time which rarely happens for me on wp. This will continue to grow as time passes. Beautiful, Bojana. Each & every word.
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Thank you, dear, for each and every word.
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“impressionist sun”….. fantastic!!!
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Thank you.
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Bojana, your words
blew me far away
to a land of lily ponds
in the garden of Monet.
Consumed in the moment
Sustained for the day
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Perfect. That’s what Impressionists do, right?
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That is my impression.
Everything looks different
when the light, shining bright
comes from another direction.
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This is stunning and beautiful poem which speaks love’s truth. The partial repetition (he said) works superbly, and your closing lines are masterful as, when we find love, we lay ourselves bare and to who knows what. Impressive work.
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Precisely. Perfect surrender. Thanks a bunch, Chris.
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You need to write love poetry more. We need you to. So we can see what our blind eyes hide. I am sincerely in love, with the work and your creation of it. Well done Bojana!!
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Thanks, Mag. I’ve never done it before so it’s all new to me. I don’t know when I’ll get inspired again but I can promise I’ll be back sooner or later with more.
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It will be worth the wait 💜
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Reblogged this on The Art of Chewing Crayons and commented:
Elegantly vulnerable, ingeniously crafted, pure.
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Thanks, dear. Much appreciated.
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Reblogged this on Truth Troubles.
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Thanks, Ted.
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