Soldier with Death before a Carousel

Posted by Maverick ~ on September 15, 2019
Posted in: Art, Music, Photography. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , .

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Soldier with Death before a Carousel
Arthur Kraft
American (1922-1977)
Graphite and oil on poster board

‘Artist Arthur Kraft’s experience in World War II influenced Soldier with Death before a Carousel (ca. 1947-51). In this painting, a skeleton wearing a helmet and boots holds a champagne flute. This image likely symbolizes the alcohol abuse many veterans face as a result of their traumatic experiences at war. Both Kraft and the artist Marcus Jansen utilize symbolism in their works. Kraft uses the champagne flutes, figures representing death, and white doves; Jansen depicts empty dishes and a few coins in Empty Plates (2007) to emphasize the economic effects of war on communities, families, and individuals. These signs and symbols reveal personal and universal reflections on war across generations.’

🕊

Sonnet of the Wishing Stone

Posted by Maverick ~ on August 19, 2019
Posted in: Music, Photography, Poetry. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

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Sonnet of the Wishing Stone

If I were rain, and on your earth could rain
If I were a candle, could light your way
If I were fire, could set your bed aflame
If I were a pen, could write on your page
.
If I were sky, carmine blue
If I were desert, scorpion yellow
If I were stone, heavy black
If I were water, froth white
.
If I were a soul, if I could fly, a bird
If I were flesh, if I could swell, the sea
If I were body, if I could blow, the wind
.
If I were mist, could drop upon you, morning
If I were cloud, descend to your world, evening
If I were a candle, could expire inside you, night.

poet:  Enis Batur
translated: Cas Stockford
at DAM, Istanbul, September 2016

🔸

Today ~  

Posted by Maverick ~ on July 21, 2019
Posted in: Music, Nature, Photography, Poetry. Tagged: , , , , , , .

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Sonnet XLIX, ’Cien sonetos de amor‘  
Pablo Neruda

It’s today: all of yesterday dropped away
among the fingers of the light and the sleeping eyes.
Tomorrow will come on its green footsteps;
no one can stop the river of the dawn.

No one can stop the river of your hands,
your eyes and their sleepiness, my dearest.
You are the trembling of time, which passes
between the vertical light and the darkening sky.

The sky folds its wings over you,
lifting you, carrying you to my arms
with its punctual, mysterious courtesy.
That is why I sing to the day and to the moon,
to the sea, to time, to all the planets,
to your daily voice, to your nocturnal skin.

It’s today: all of yesterday dropped away
among the fingers of the light and the sleeping eyes.
Tomorrow will come on its green footsteps;
no one can stop the river of the dawn.

It’s today, it’s today…

⏱

Pink Tint

Posted by Maverick ~ on June 14, 2019
Posted in: Art, Photography, Poetry. Tagged: , , , , , .

Pink Tint (2017)
Digital print from the series Flora and Fauxna
Patty Carroll – American

What was said to the Rose

What was said to the rose that made it open was said
to me here in my chest.

What was told the cypress that made it strong
and straight, what was

whispered the jasmine so it is what it is, whatever made
sugarcane sweet, whatever

was said to the inhabitants of the town of Chigil in
Turkestan that makes them

so handsome, whatever lets the pomegranate flower blush
like a human face, that is

being said to me now. I blush. Whatever put eloquence in
language, that’s happening here.

The great warehouse doors open; I fill with gratitude,
chewing a piece of sugarcane,
in love with the one to whom every that belongs!

~ Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi
 ‘Rumi the Book of Love – poems of ecstasy and longing’.
Translated by Coleman Barks

It’s Rose, Rose 🌹

Posted by Maverick ~ on May 31, 2019
Posted in: Flowers, Music, Photography, Poetry. Tagged: , , , , , , , , .

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It’s Rose, Rose

Origin of the rose one is rose,
descent of the Prophet is rose
I walked into the garden of Shah,
all of it, all planted as rose, rose
I walked into the garden of Shah,
all of it, all planted as rose, rose

In the grapevine; rose branches,
in the beehives; rose honeys
In trees; rose poises,
cypress and planes are all rose, rose
In trees; rose poises,
cypress and planes are all rose, rose

Bloom, come my rosebud,
don’t make your madly-in-love nightingale cry
Bloom, come my rosebud,
don’t make your madly-in-love nightingale cry

All the lamentation and “ah”s 
of this moaning poor tongue is rose, rose
All the lamentation and “ah”s 
of this moaning poor tongue is rose, rose

They make scales of rose,
they balance the rose with the rose
They buy rose, sell rose,
all markets and bazaars are rose, rose
They buy rose, sell rose,
all markets and bazaars are rose, rose

Come oh come laugh hey Nesîmî,
it’s the rose season again
Come oh come laugh hey Nesîmî,
it’s the rose season again

Is this lamentation a nightingale’s voice?
Its voice, its lamentation is all rose, rose
Is this lamentation a nightingale’s voice?
Its voice, its lamentation is all rose, rose

~ Kul Nesîmî


Note: Here; the “rose” is a metaphor. It symbolizes “the beloved one” and “love” all over. In the people’s hearts, in the world, everywhere. Also, it’s a symbol of Prophet Mohammad (s.a.s.) in Islamic literature. 

1-In “divan poem”; “Nightingale” is the lover of rose. He cries in the night for rose to bloom it. So the loving one and beloved one come together, they become one in love, and love comes all over the world.
2-“Ah” means sigh, as the sound of cry. and it’s a curtailed saying of “Allah” also.
3-Tongue here as his words.
4-In Turkish “Gül” means “rose” and “laugh” also.

 

Being a lover ~

Posted by Maverick ~ on May 17, 2019
Posted in: Art, Music, Poetry. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , .

Being a lover means your heart must ache,
No sickness hurts as much as when hearts break,
The lover’s ailment’s totally unique,
Love is the astrolabe of all we seek,
Whether you feel divine or earthly love,
Ultimately we’re destined for above.
To capture love whatever words I say
Make me ashamed when love arrives my way,
While explanation sometimes makes things clear
True love through silence only one can hear:
The pen would smoothly write the things it knew
But when it came to love it split in two,
A donkey stuck in mud is logic’s fate—
Love’s nature only love can demonstrate:
Sunshine reveals its nature in each ray,
So if it’s proof you want just look this way!
Shadows can indicate what’s shining bright
But it’s the sun which fills your soul with light

Rumi
[Masnavi]

Amor ~

Posted by Maverick ~ on May 13, 2019
Posted in: Music, Nature, Photography, Poetry. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , .

So many days, oh so many days
seeing you so tangible and so close,
how do I pay, with what do I pay?

The bloodthirsty spring
has awakened in the woods.
The foxes start from their earths,
the serpents drink the dew,
and I go with you in the leaves
between the pines and the silence,
asking myself how and when
I will have to pay for my luck.

Of everything I have seen,
it’s you I want to go on seeing:
of everything I’ve touched,
it’s your flesh I want to go on touching.
I love your orange laughter.
I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.

What am I to do, love, loved one?
I don’t know how others love
or how people loved in the past.
I live, watching you, loving you.
Being in love is my nature.

You please me more each afternoon.

Where is she? I keep on asking
if your eyes disappear.
How long she’s taking! I think, and I’m hurt.
I feel poor, foolish and sad,
and you arrive and you are lightning
glancing off the peach trees.

That’s why I love you and yet not why.
There are so many reasons, and yet so few,
for love has to be so,
involving and general,
particular and terrifying,
joyful and grieving,
flowering like the stars,
and measureless as a kiss.

That’s why I love you and yet not why.
There are so many reasons, and yet so few,
for love has to be so,
involving and general,
particular and terrifying,
joyful and grieving,
flowering like the stars,
and measureless as a kiss.

~Pablo Neruda