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Выставка: Самоанализ

Автопортрет человечества

Автор: Коул Е.Л. Грин

Базируется в Кейптауне, Южная Африка

Instagram: @ cole_e.l_green, @ greentree.poetry

Facebook - Коул ЭЛ Грин

Сборник стихов, охватывающий различные эмоции, любовь, потеря, природа, смятение и жизнь. Только вкус полного сочетания поэтической справедливости, чтобы оправдать и соединить с кем-то внутреннее чувство, которым может поделиться любая душа в одиночку или с компанией, превращая мир в слова, хотя бы в попытке сделать жизнь более понятной и, в свою очередь, более красивой и живой.

City Traffic at Night

What if the World Went Dark?


What if the world went dark?
If the headlights on the highway whizzing by,
The lights hanging from the eaves of the buildings,
The lights shining through the windows,
All faded to black
And you could see nothing but dark—
Not even the silhouettes
Of trees and structures and hills
In the night?
What if you could sit
In the middle of the highway
Without fearing that something would hit you?
Is that freedom?
Is that freedom?
If the world went dark,
What would it sound like?
Would the ringing in our ears cease,
Or would the silence be even more deafening
Than the sound of power
Running through the wires
Hidden inside the walls that trap us?
Could we better hear
Our own footsteps,
Our own thoughts.
Our own desires?
Could we better speak them
To be better heard by others?
Is that freedom?
What if the world went dark,
And we suddenly could not see
Where we were going?
So we dropped our bags and briefcases
And simply began to walk—
Maybe toward the place
To which we were headed before the world went dark,
Or maybe away from it.
Who knows?
Who cares?
We just walked.
Is that freedom?
And what if we kept walking
And walking

And walking
Until the sun rose
On the horizon
Over land on which we realized
We were meant to be all along...
Is that freedom?


-Ris
February 2020
Cassiopeia.

Image by Alev Takil

The Finer Things in Life


I lower myself into a warm tub
Of sweet wine
And get drunk off the steam.
I dry myself off
With sheets of paper,
Leaving ink smudges on my skin
Like semi-permanent tattoos,
I sing loudly to myself
As I walk through my home,
Bare-bodied,
Barefooted,
Leaving behind pieces of soaked paper
Like a trail of breadcrumbs in the forest
Leading to a house
Of gingerbread and gumdrops.
The flooring that I chose
Is cold beneath my feet.
The windows are open
And through them I see nothing but treetops.
The wind lifts
The leftover pink bathwater
Off my skin
And swirls it around me like magic dust,
And the crickets and lightning bugs
Make their way inside
To dance with the droplets
As I tuck myself in.
I wish on a shooting star,
The moon kisses me goodnight,
And I fall asleep clutching the galaxy to my chest.
In the morning
The sun will rise
And in the daylight, the flowers will grow
And I will reach down to greet them all
One by one.
It’s quiet.


-Ris
March 2020; April 2020
I sort of lost the original meaning but I think this is fine(r).

Cafe Window

If You Ask Me...


Let the sun rise every morning
And the moon set every night.
Let there be open windows;
Let in the sounds
Of happy birds.
Summer just smells better.
Let the breeze blow and the trees sway.
Let there be song
Within the walls and without,
Ringing like, “I love you”s echoing
Through my head.
Let there be peace,
Happiness.
Let there be us;
Let there be love,
Let there be a kiss goodnight,
Let us fall asleep feeling warm
And safe
And loved,
And let there be you,
Opening up your eyes.


Let there be light.


-Ris
May 2020; June 2020
Home is what you spread on your bagels.

College St. and Daydreams cover.jpg

ИСКУССТВО от души

- Художественный конкурс Culturally's Fall -

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