I also write for / Scriu si pentru


I also write for / Scriu si pentru

Revista Tango Romania


Monday, January 29, 2024

POEM: Mona Lisa

I step into the grand hall of the Louvre,
My heart pounding with anticipation.
The whispers of countless visitors fill the air,
Blitz flashes incessantly,
But my focus remains unwavering.
I weave through the crowds,
Following the signs that lead me to her.
She’s the first one I want to see.
And then, there she is,
The enigmatic smile that has captivated hearts for centuries.
Mona Lisa.

I stand in awe, studying every brushstroke, every subtle hue,
As if deciphering a secret language.
The crowded room seems to fade away,
Leaving only her and me in a timeless moment.
The protective barriers that stand between her and the admirers seem to not matter anymore.
The sheer magnitude of her presence is overwhelming,
A testament to the power of art.
As I finally tear myself away,
I carry her image within me,
Forever etched in my mind,
A souvenir of my pilgrimage to the heart of Paris.

~~~~~~~~~~

I was devastated by the news at the Louvre Museum yesterday when two vandals attacked Mona Lisa. Such a sacrilege. The way how they decided to protest is not going to resolve the issue that they want to bring awareness to. If I were there, I would have dragged those two lunatics by their hair out of the museum. These two vandals (and anyone else who attacks art the same way) deserve to be banned from all museums and galleries of the world, forever. Luckily, they got arrested yesterday. But most importantly, Mona Lisa was not damaged, protected by her bulletproof glass wall.

I traveled to Paris and visited the Louvre for the first time in 2008. Mona Lisa was the very first exhibit that I wanted to see. The energy in the room where she resides was incredible that day. As it happened, it was also a Sunday. I had to wait in line for minutes to see her. Millions of people from all over the world come to Paris every year just to see her at the Louvre.

And then there are such scumbags who think they can change the world by throwing soup at THE MOST VALUABLE PAINTING IN THE WORLD, in the entire history of humanity.

I wrote this poem last year. I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to visit the Louvre and see Mona Lisa.
Paris, Louvre, October 2008. Photo credit: Victoria West

Wednesday, January 24, 2024

POEM: The White Lighthouse

Standing tall and proud on the sandy shores of Lake Ontario,
The white lighthouse is a beacon of hope for sailors navigating treacherous waters.
Its gleaming façade contrasts beautifully with the azure sky and the deep blue expanse of the lake.
For generations, the lighthouse has faithfully guided ships to safety,
Its light cutting through the darkness like a celestial sword.
It has seen storms and serenity,
Witnessed tears of parting and joyous reunions,
Became a silent witness to the ebb and flow of life on the shore of the lake.
Townspeople have come to cherish the lighthouse for the sense of security and comfort it provides to all who lay eyes upon it.
Its stoic presence is a reminder of the enduring strength that guides them through life’s tempestuous seas.

The lighthouse comes alive when the sun sets below the horizon.
Its light flickers in the dusk,
Illuminating the darkening sky and announcing its unwavering commitment to safeguarding the sailors once more.
Seagulls soar gracefully around it,
Their calls adding a symphonic touch to the tranquil scene.
Families stroll along the shore,
Their laughter blending with the gentle lapping of the waves.

The night envelops the town.
The beam of the lighthouse stands firm, sweeping across the waters like a celestial brush,
Its dance casting a guiding path for ships yet to come.
Here, on the shore of Lake Ontario,
The white lighthouse remains a symbol of hope, resilience, and a community bastion.

Monday, January 22, 2024

A Love Poem

All I want on a cold winter day is a glass of wine, a book, and you.
I wake up every day grateful that you are still in my life.
I was born into this world to love you.
Love is everywhere. In my heart, my soul, my thoughts.
When I say I love you, I really mean I love you.
You’re the only one who can unlock my heart.
Your being away is torture for me, I’m counting the minutes until you’re back.
Don’t be afraid to give wings to your heart, I will catch it.
I love you more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~

An experimental poem dedicated to love inspired by quotes about love from some of my short poems previously published on my social media pages.

Wednesday, January 17, 2024

POEM: The Antiques Shop

I’m on a road trip.
A journey of discovery.
I drive through the winding roads of the countryside.
On my way across the country,
I stumble upon a charming little town that seems almost frozen in time.
I am intrigued by its quaint atmosphere.
I decide to explore its streets on foot.
It doesn’t take long for a unique storefront to catch my eye.
It’s an antiques shop with a faded sign that reads “The Attic with the Memories”.

The moment I step inside,
A rush of nostalgia envelops me.
The shop is a treasure trove of forgotten artifacts,
Each of them whispering stories of days long gone.
Among the dusty shelves,
I spot an old journal,
Its leather cover showing signs of age.
I open it,
And a delicate handwriting from the sixties dances before my eyes,
Revealing the heartfelt words of a young woman in love.

Enthralled by the mysterious woman’s enchanting story,
I find myself lost in her world.
With each turn of the yellowed pages,
I become a witness to her hopes, dreams, and struggles.
Her words transport me to a time when love was innocent,
Handwritten letters were cherished,
And every emotion held a profound weight.
I can’t resist taking this precious memento home.
I will forever be captivated by the life and love of its owner.
Amid my road trip,
I am grateful that I have found a profound connection to a young woman who once walked these streets,
Penning her heart into this now-treasured journal which I will cherish like a priceless gem.

Monday, January 15, 2024

POEM: The Winter Solstice

On the eve of the winter solstice,
A serene hush descends upon the world.
Delicate snowflakes pirouette from the heavens,
Transforming the landscape into a pristine tableau of white.
The air is crisp,
And the silvery glow of the moon casts an ethereal sheen over the snow-covered earth.
Beneath the blanket of frost, the world seems to hold its breath in quiet reverence for the shortest day of the year.
As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and lavender,
People gather around fireplaces and candles,
Celebrating the triumph of light over darkness, warmth over cold.

With the arrival of the winter solstice,
Mother Nature embarks on her silent dance,
Marking the turning point in the celestial cycle.
As the night reaches its pinnacle,
The world prepares to bid farewell to the longest night and welcome the slow but steady return of daylight.
In the days that follow,
A subtle shift occurs,
Imperceptible to the impatient eye.
The sun’s ascent comes a fraction earlier each morning,
And the daylight is extended bit by bit,
Promising the gradual awakening of the earth from its winter slumber.
The winter solstice is not just the climax of darkness,
It symbolizes the inception of a hopeful journey towards spring,
As the days increase in length,
Mirroring the renewal of life and the promise of warmer days to come.

Monday, January 01, 2024

POEM: Resolutions

I’m not the kind of New Year’s Eve resolutions gal.
When the magic night between the years comes,
I hold on to the moment.
I raise the glass.
I kiss my love on the lips.
I wish for a happier new year.
What else do people have on their minds when the new year is here?
Read more books.
Travel more.
Exercise more.
Lose more weight.
Spend more time with friends and family.
Go to all the new restaurants in town.
Quit smoking.
Get married.
Find a new job.
I don’t say any of these things to myself at twelve o’clock when the old year leaves and the new one knocks at the door.
I would be disappointed should any of them not be achieved by the end of the new year.
Instead, I let it surprise me with its best to give.
And I simply say,
Happy New Year!
And I hope for the happiest of it.