Juliet and Romeo

Juliet
is all slick and wet
her long hair in her eyes
she has been hit
by an idiot
drunk driving by 
bye bye

Romeo
roams idly by 
sees the girl on the ground
He looks at her 
quizzically 
then realises what he has found

Juliet
breathes in gasps
as blood pools under her back
She looks up sees Romeo
last look last love
as limbs go slack

Romeo’s
not much you know
but this time 
things are different
He wipes the hair from glazed eyes
and wonders where 
her life went

Juliet
rises above the scene
She watches Romeo
He cradles her head
gently in his lap
He whimpers out a moan

Romeo
struck by love’s full fist
his only love has gone
He whines he weeps
at his loss
Death into his soul creeps

Juliet 
bears final witness to 
Romeo’s last testament
“Did my heart truly love till now?”
he whispers
For the first time 
he knows what love meant
“Good night Good night”
“Thus with a kiss I too die”
He declares to her 
death pale face

Romeo 
bends his head down
tenderly brushes her cold lips 
with his own
he lets her head down 
lightly beside him
as he lies quietly beside her
takes her right hand
with his left

Romeo
from his pocket
retrieves a knife
meant for other men 
he eases the blade
between his ribs
it finds his broken heart
As blood pools under his back
his life is also gone

Juliet 
utters one last cry of grief
before she disappears
or was that one last cry of relief
in hope he reappears
for never was there a story of more woe 
than this of Juliet and her Romeo

Ingrid’s prompt for this week’s dVerse poetics was “Homage to the Bard.” I chose to write a poem approximately on the theme of Romeo and Juliet. https://dversepoets.com/2022/04/26/poetics-homage-to-the-bard/

Small Flies and Other Wings

Small Flies and Other Wings by Christine Ay Tjoe (Oil on canvas) 2013
Art in the pink, the hope that it brings
Wings painted from, the smallest of things
The joy of the colour, the mess of it all
A pleasure to view, this artist's call

Not quite abstract, the painting surreal
Based in fact, then allowed to congeal
Into pastel riot, of colour and lines
Into a many makes whole, artwork refined

What underlies, there's tissue paper petals
The subject mixed up, then left to settle
What was the intent, forethought soft light
To please the eye, or just to feel right

So busy so active, yet here is still life
Outlines overshot, not cut like a knife
In the blur there is movement, on a canvas full
But the subject is lifeless, the message - killed

When you look deeper, what do you see
Something different to me, most certainly
I see part of you, I see part of me
I see a gift, a sadness, in humanity

Did this idea form, in the artist's mind
Develop and grow, the mind to bind
An irresistible force, the desire to create
A bane and pleasure, that will never wait

This poem is a response to a dVerse ~ Poets Pub challenge

The art of sitting

Choose a place to still your body and a restless mind. Sit. Start by observing all that is going on around you. Hear the background noises. Examine the occupants, textures and colours of the physical surroundings. Feel the movement and temperature of the air. Take your time. Acknowledge and appreciate these things. Once you have paid them their due. Let them go.

Look into your mind. Question the constant restlessness of your thinking. How important is it for this moment? Work your way through your thoughts, shedding all that are not essential to your being here and now. Settle any disturbing waves of turbulence to a calm pool within.

Breathe, slow and deep. Find your own rhythm.

Place yourself exclusively in this moment and space. Stay for as much time as you need. Peacefully, refresh and reset.

National Gallery of Victoria Triennial

If you couldn’t get into the NGV Triennial between lockdowns and all the other life stuff that interferes with what you really want to be doing, here is a small photographic essay of my experience. Being at the NGV again was such a treat. The visitors were well supported and everyone looked very cool and very relaxed. As usual, the curation was excellent. The artworks were impressive and engaging. It almost felt normal.

We started in the back garden where, as DJ, our daughter’s partner was doing a great job getting everyone into a chilled art space frame of mind. Seated under a shady Pin Oak was the perfect setting for the groove and the company. In fact, it was so chilled and relaxed I even risked my first light beer in a very, very long time. It was appropriately refreshing and I didn’t get my usual alcohol headache. Very pleasing.

Note: The photos are pretty grainy and may be a bit out of focus at times. I was using an old Nikon A300 point and shoot. It isn’t a very capable camera, but I had fun with it nonetheless.

Now see this: Kiera walking at the NGV

Video

This is Kiera walking by Julian Opie

Her gait is casual, her strides equidistant, her steps flow, one into the other

When Kiera walks she holds her back straight, her body tall

Kiera’s deportment is posture perfect, her carriage graceful

Kiera’s head sits proudly above her shoulders

Kiera holds her head high and steady

Kiera is confident, possibly aloof, purposefully advancing, focussing ahead, apparently disinterested in those of us observing her

As she rolls her shoulders with each forward step a small patch of white skin momentarily flashes above her breast

Kiera’s slender arms sway back and forth in alternating, measured unison

Each hand a pendulum weight that arcs in balancing synchrony with the opposing leg

Kiera’s hips sway as her pelvis thrusts gently forward with every rocking pace

Her thighs emerge from under her short skirt accentuating a lithe, long body as she catwalks endlessly, captive within the static frame

Kiera walks eternally by as a lateral projection, her curved buttocks accentuate the femininity of her stride

Kiera is an elegant image of the fluid mechanics of young adult human ambulation

The artist, Julian Opie, created Kiera

Julian is a master reductionist of the human form