International Poet

That Beauty The world boasts an ever changing face of garden Plants fall in and fall out of favours Set trends come and diminished fashions forgotten Preferences confuse taste with choices of colours Like an ever altering cinemascope In this mindscape of flux Some mysterious favourites remain a thin hope An instant release attracts keen emotion influx Amidst the numerous stars, moon may stand aloof To dwarf the crown Queen of roses’ simmering fun But when evening primrose invites for hard proof I dream only the daughter of light with fragrance of sun That beauty conquers with confidence and insight That beauty also makes night an easy delight

Some Things More Important Than Poetry Life,and people-work and family Commitments made to be honored- Births,deaths,funerals,pain- Witnessing at the passing of others Periods of necessary silences Times when all poems blow away Times when one must be lost - in a crowd or alone/on Internet or phone Times when to shop is of utmost importance! Eating,drinking,sleeping,dreaming Whole lives when nothing particularly happens! Gaps between-travelling.Growing into rituals-Reading,listening,absorbing Praying,meditating,waiting Every participle participant particle Every authenticated distancing mechanism Poetry must wait at the intersection of thoughts and feelings and feed upon the scraps again.

Why did I love and now hate Photojournalism? Always looking back at old snapshots, obsolete, deja vu, caduco, Alter hut. no more the big strugle is there, always standing in front of soon-to-be-shot so-called heroes one is caught in a ring, not unlike Prostitution Which most of the press is more and more becoming back to Stanley and Livingston when it took 2 months for the news to filter out of Africa.

Yperite late at night a mist fills the valley. without knowing it suffocates like a dark power. on the fields our dead bodies and under the grass a brown soil © Ekphrastic poetry (poem + painting) by Jan Theuninck

Memory Is Being Blurred Memory is being blurred. Images are getting dim. I shall forget everything oneday. Everything,everything,everything. I don't want to. But,I'll. New life has so many challenges. Daily new adventures. Daily new behavioural patterns. The present putting the glorious past behind. Bad coin drives the good coin out of use. New patterns,new associates. Responsibility destroying emotion. I am weeping. I want to come back. But how? I can't. I can't. I can't.

An Extra Death For every breath is an extra death For every spice of life taken is another spicy death given For every celebration begat an unborn mourning For every brighter morning lies a darken moaning What joyful tears fall in my shadow of fears? When does my trailer of labour and stress Eventually bore unclaimed bountiful years Why does untold relief come in her brighter colour of deceit? That our unborn years would embarrass us trouble free For every birthday that is here Our deathbeds are near How joyful how sad Whether fat, thin or black White, bad, thirtyfive or ninety five Our every breath sucks our extra life Vanity just vanity, ignore not this pathetic tale Like you ignore you nagging husband or wife.

Penmanship Blues As we consider all we've lost and all we've gained we must recall the cost and pay the debt to whom it had concerned, to whom we owe to those whose soul was earned, and those who stole we know those who convene and dream of life the same as those with fizzled days and burning nights we ask ourselves, tonight a sonnet? perhaps a verse as life proceeds, tonight a blessing? perhaps a curse we all agree what it may be it's certainly avoiding lies it's what we hear when voices lie it's what to do when tongues are tied and quickly we propel to dark even if small, we'll leave a mark we will proceed to write down life even if just by scraps of light.