Poetry Inspired by Monet “Water Lilies” Challenge #1

https://www.artic.edu/artworks/16568/water-lilies by Claude Monet

Michigan Water Lilies by Rachel Ashcraft

The water lilies are not the ones by Monet, I’ve seen hanging in the museum
Covered in glass
made only to glimmer by the reflective light, 
fingerprint smudged as if someone thought to reach in and pluck one
 - pull it up and out of the water, attached to the silt 
like an umbilical cord

The ones I hold are real in a small dirtied dammed pond on a capsized canoe
And we break the pads from their stems and cut the stems from the silt 
And we think that to drink the water through the stems will take out all the bacteria
And it tastes likes fish scales and the scent of snakes, 
And I know you’re lying when you tell me we’re survivalists
And the sun catches you and I think of drinking milkshakes in Santa Claus, Indiana with you
And I pretend this lily-straw we’ve made, because you’ve watched too much Crocodile Hunter, is made of paper and the water is chocolate
 and I don’t think of all the little things that call it home. 
I don’t think of that at all.

Twitter: @RachCraftsTales

A Letter to Monet by Kevin DeLaney

you're supposed
to feel things
behind beauty
there is supposed
to be pain.
but when
I look at you
I feel nothing.
I don't feel weight.
I don't feel broken
or any sort of sad.
I don't even feel
I don't feel
like fucking or
any sort of heat.
I hardly feel strange.
when I read you,
I am coherent
and I can remember
my own name,
and that is not
supposed to happen.
I should feel
some sense of death,
and I feel none
but sincerely,
there is no shame...
it's not you,
it's me
at least
your work
is pretty.

Twitter: @kpdela

The Pond of Life by Vipanjeet Kaur

A dream-like pond mirrors Life 
like a glass painting:
A microcosm of the cosmos
and of human life;
An image of the illusive world;

A dark water palate 
reflecting loneliness of Life
where mix, merge and emerge
coloured dreams of Life –
The turquoise of the sky and
silver grey of clouds 
painting the centre,
The tree top olives colouring 
its bankless margins;

A backdrop for unfolding
the play of Life –
Enacted in the foreground by
Water lilies-red, pink and white-
The majestic aquatic autumn beauties
Shining like stars and fireflies,
Twinkling, illuminating and dotting
the dull sky-like surface.

Standing upright with slender stalks
on the circular plates of green leaves
after shedding impurities of Life;
Emerging immaculately from the mud of life;
Dreaming of rebirth and resurgence;
Deep in meditation or sleep
within their enclosed petals
like souls seeking redemption.

Opening the cup of petals at night,
like seekers awakening from trances
bearing the enlightened light
and effulgence of moonlight,
and worthy of partaking nectar of purity,
They bloom and embalm
the darkness of night
giving wholeness to the transient Life.

Bio: Ms. Vipanjeet Kaur from India is a poet fond of writing poems on various themes like nature, women empowerment, self, spiritualism and life.  Her haikus have been featured in the international online journals like Haiku Dialogue of The Haiku Foundation, The Haiku Pond, The Cold Moon Journal and the Scarlet Dragonfly Journal and her micropoetry has been published in the Five Fleas (Itchy Poetry). She has also read research papers on the topics of Literature, Human Rights and Women Empowerment in a few national seminars and international conferences. 
She can be followed on Twitter @vjpoeticmusings.  
wordpress website: https://vjpoeticmusings.com 

An Impressionist's Perspective by Pasithea Chan

Who needs an eye when holding a brush
with a heart full of love to paint beauty?
Why reminisce beauty when you can witness-
love’s purity and experience its peaceful bliss?
You don’t have to be Hercules’-
Amalfi to understand a lover’s agony-
or sympathize with Melite’s envy.
Death does not distinguish between 
lament for lovers or unrequited love.
Only an impressionist seeks clarity to be free 
from a sky that pulls aspirations with memory.
His brush pulls lives into a scene with sentiments.
Only a cataract eye overridden by artistic mentality
leaves out trees’ shadows haunting reflections. 
that haunt lovers’ souls before waters.
The pond’s waters pulled Monet with its lilies-
pulling the river from rushing back.
His brush joined them in their colorful strokes
to sing life’s it is what it is peacefully.
Today he invites thee to be like him free
of interpretations held in minds & simile.
Monet’s Water Lilies’ Pond shuts down a sky 
crowded with echoes of lost wishes and goodbye.
Let its blue hues carry you on its lilies’ tunes 
to where Alice lives on with your impressions
on the beauty of living in the present.  

A Poetry Showcase with Pasithea Chan (September 2022)

Changing Light on Water by Louise Longson
"Colours pursue me like a constant worry. They even worry me in my sleep." 
(Claude Monet, December 1914)

A cold brush of sleet stipples 
the windows with sound, tapping
in the grey-rose dawn. A dream-
jumbled code of unsolved impressions
lays wresting, half-forgotten 
on the tip of my vision, hesitating 
like a horse refusing to jump. Broken 
now into blurred, incoherent shades,

the cool-blue world seems far away, far
from familiar; increasingly coloured in red
and sepia tones, even as the winter-soft
yellow light washes over the waking day

Bio: A qualified psychotherapist, Louise Longson works remotely from her home in a small village for a charity that offers a listening service to people whose physical and emotional distress is caused by loneliness and historic trauma. Not having to go into the office since the start of the pandemic in 2020(a 2 hour plus round trip) allowed her the time and headspace to write. She has since been widely published in print and online. She is the author of the chapbooks Hanging Fire (Dreich Publications, 2021) and Songs from the Witch Bottle; cytoplasmic variations (Alien Buddha Press, 2022). Her poems contain themes of trauma, abuse, loneliness, grief and loss, seen through the twin prisms of myth and nature.

Monet With Water Passes By Me by Maid Čorbić 

I am unaware again
that my life has no more ravages
only my hopes still stand
to be an old man
and to strive for my dreams

I know I have to be so strong.
because the meaning of life for me is
to save myself from hell
and that every day I strive just to be
all that I am and am not

I know that my fate hangs in the balance.
but that monet has become all to me.
because without him I am nobody and nothing.
and I have to make all my wishes come true.
while my body swirled at the bottom

and I am ready to sign my agreement
as long as the soul is still looking for its own sea
because without him I became an ordinary man,
a desire for direction and a goal that has become irrelevant
all because of the children's black game!

Bio: Maid Corbic from Tuzla, 22 years old. In his spare time he writes poetry that repeatedly
praised as well as rewarded. He also selflessly helps others around him, and he is moderator
of the World Literature Forum WLFPH (World Literature Forum Peace and Humanity) for
humanity and peace in the world in Bhutan. 

The Lilies by Thasia Anne Lunger

The Lilie's 
give up
They float
and bloom
They refuse
to go under 
The lilie's
have learned
how to 
stay calm
and persevere   

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Thasia Anne Lunger

Monet/Hockney haiku by Ivor Daniel

I am so seduced
by your water lilies I
take my glasses off

squint and look deeper.
More like water lilies than
actual lilies

like Hockney’s big splash
pools look more like swimming pools
than swimming pools do.  

Inspired by Bob Dylan poetry by Ivor Daniel

Blue Moon by Marianne Tefft
Blue Moon appeared in the Spring 2022 issue of Literary Cocktail Magazine in May 2022. 

You splashed your watercolors  
Across my stony heart 
Like Monet in his garden  
You made me your work of art 
With perfect lines and sketches  
You knew just where to start 
By sunrise I was dreaming  
We’d never be apart 
All your shades and shadows  
Painted pictures in my mind 
A brilliant fairytale that came 
Once upon a time 
Never-ending rainbows  
Telling stories line by line 
By sunset I was dreaming  
Of our Technicolor night 
Like chalk dust on a rainy street 
Love slipped through our frame 
No dashing knight to count on 
No pot of gold to claim 
No longer close by my side 
You still come now and then 
The album in my mind’s eye 
Tells me where and when 
I’ll see you again 
Blue Moon 

Water Lilies Ballet by Jacqueline P. Dempsey-Cohen

A frolic of dustlight
a merriment of sunlight
slowly deliquesce 
into arabesques of color
violet shimmer, cobalt gleam
cadmium yellow, viridian green 
tonal mist glimmers the air 
a playful pirouette of pigment
sending sense of sunlight asunder
Yet below, quiet wonder,
a muted requiem of hue
cobalt swirls with palest blue
vermillion fades to rose
A delicate dance
in shadowed depths
Sunlight plundered.

twitter @boscoedempsey

A Monet haiku and monoku by Lev Hart
sunny afternoon
         painting the light 
within Water Lilies

art gallery        visitors lost        amid Water Lilies

bio: Lev Hart, having lived on this planet for 69 years,
is becoming impatient with the tardiness of his
rescue ship. Meanwhile he has majored in English,
worked with homeless people, moved to the Gulf of
Aqaba, and returned to Canada. His beloved and he
have been together almost forever.

The Water Lilies in Claude Monet's Mind as I Feel Grave by David L O'Nan

A whole, a dump, I worship in my sadness. 
To be a flower that is not dead in this dark room where my mind has shed.
I feel like I cannot break any further as my body hits the water.
Caution: the water is too cool.  But it looks warm enough to me.
A blue day reflects through the trees and my eyes obey the power of the water lilies.

The fears begin to fade, although I have not moved from my internal shade.
I have dreamt myself into a Garden, I have began to feel Giverny.
You hear the echoed voices from outside from the unruly. 
Tune them out and swim in my friend!  Your only true friend right now is the imagination and escape.
I have deleted out the traumas of my past, my current, my midnight tremors.
I have held the water lily in my hand and worshiped to the gods of art, of beauty.  

Repaired.  In a sweet dream. Kidnapped away to the Water Gardens. 
A blink out of the trance.    Neglected.  The dream vanishes.   I want back my Paradise.   Another dream some other night....hopefully Monet will haunt me again.  

Two Haikus by Jessica Swafford

Pink water lilies
gone - gasp as frog quickly leaps
safe from my big foot

dragonflies gather
quiet multitudes swarming
water lilies gone

A Super Deluxe Poetry Showcase from David L O’Nan (from several books pt 1)

Current bio for Fevers of the Mind’s David L O’Nan editor/writing contributor to blog. 

Hard Rain Poetry: Forever Dylan Anthology available today! 

Available Now: Before I Turn Into Gold Inspired by Leonard Cohen Anthology by David L O’Nan & Contributors w/art by Geoffrey Wren 

Bare Bones Writings Issue 1 is out on Paperback and Kindle


Book Review for Jeff Parent ‘This Bygone Route’ review by Maid Corbic


to purchase book or learn more click link above

Jeff Parent @yuppoems on Twitter

“This Bygone Route” is one wonderful book collection that continues to conquer the entire world. In each poem we can find knowledge of the world and of what we may present ourselves today; his words are still very large and steady no matter what else they say. Struggling with himself and his ego, he continues to revive his deeds in beautiful deeds that are instructive to all of us, not just him. Many of these poems that I have read are very important, so they talk about life, the real state of man and emotions that are trivial, equally persistent, and they can always tell us about life that is equal. Of course, everything we experience is just one real situation that we have to overcome with courage and equality, and this collection of books shows us just that.

A special stylistic text describes all the poems I have read and are metrically very accurate. It is very difficult to see that today. This collection is also very wonderful as it also has many lyrical images; describes nature, a man who always tries to fight what is still stable and flat for him, with human epithets and times that are bad for him. His stage of life as well as his thinking itself gradually changes when he realizes that he can no longer hold on to equality and words that continued to become harder and harder for him. A collection that always gives selectness, is always concisely worded every one of his works that carries multiple messages; the struggle for rights, unrequited love or those conditions that we have to worry about, mentally where many today no longer care about it and create dangerous barriers. Every goal must also justify the means, because only in this way can we declare a story to be realistic and enduring. Not otherwise.

The struggle is present and the passion for a man to wake up from some daydreams like a phoenix and to rise far regardless of the events around him. The name of the collection itself can carry a lot of forty-one poems, each of which is fantastic in its own way, and each of them shows an explicit desire and opportunity to progress in this world that has continued to become unsettled. Times change and life slowly begins to get harder and harder, but the author does not give up so easily either; he reciprocates his energies in each poem and proves that the world around him is still dignified and colorful, and that in the end he has reason to live another year in happiness and peace, and not just be one sad black bird that has to fly from one end. on the other. He still carried sin in some poems, but that does not mean that he is a sinner. On the contrary, he is a very strong man who shows time and direction in every poem, a direction he deserves to proudly carry in the depths of his woven soul, because he values around himself the best deeds and works that other people bring him.

Of all the poems, “Eclipse Year” is the most realistic because it is about the author himself who is trying to find his peace in his world and to live some of his unfulfilled dreams, because he wanted to be still alive; only he felt he was trapped between two lines and no longer had a reason to live some of his cherished dreams. But on the contrary, he believed, as in many poems, that God is only one and that everything he creates is really just his thought that made him think of others maybe some bad things and maybe he did not dream or want that. He believed that there must be a story behind every corner that would lead him to some small details that would eventually lead to even bigger ones, but he thought that time did best. This is what the narrative of the poem itself says, the year of the turning point and the environment in which he finds himself, and it is time to finally dedicate himself and realize all his dreams until he finally becomes an old man and where he will still not be able to work and dream all his dreams. the desires he dreamed; because his reality was still on shaky ground. The year of cataclysm, to put it mildly, this poems says that we still have to be strong and look forward as always, not to think black things because that’s the only way those that we don’t want to see and feel can happen to us, because the worst defeat is when we declare without any warning beforehand. Year after year, some things will improve. Nothing will ever stay so dark and that justice must always win in the end.

“Coming home” means one part of the song in which the author sets himself in plans and wishes, but he slowly realizes it. He lives in an ideal world where nothing is equal to him, but he is afraid of being so doomed in that reality, because he must value himself first and foremost and ultimately be the leader of his dreams that he realizes. He wanted everything he did to be only in his mind and that one day if he was lucky and accomplished. This poem is thoughtful, but of course it takes on great significance because the lack of the figure of an important person still leaves a trace of the great in the heart that cannot be healed so easily, as for example his father when he loved very much and I would give anything for him. Nothing happened just so by accident and he had to believe that between waking and dreaming there is only one wish and thought, and that is a better and more beautiful world that awaits him one day when he disappears. The belief is that the world is one steam engine that leads to the end and that revision is always just his life, which no longer makes sense because of a very important figure. Some things cannot be repeated together as before.

“Humidex” is also a great poem that says that the title is first and foremost very special and that it fits in brilliantly about these happenings, is the self-awareness it holds. Psychologically speaking, metrically correct. Many competitions can achieve exceptional work, but of course its message is numerous, which the author must eventually find a solution on his own and be guided by thoughts that have become very difficult for him, because the song itself requires a lot of concentration. But far from true, of course this is a poem that has emotions and style in it, it has colors and comparisons even.

I was especially impressed by the fact that it is very nicely decorated in a visual sense; from margins to padding, to numbering, and from poems to lyrical images to metaphors – in one place everything can be found very easily and in an assistant. All the titles of the poems are very ingenious and creative, each author can find inspiration for some future works that he will have and that in the end he creates something that no one else could, and that is diversity.

With forty-one pages, forty-one possible visions of the world, I still have a strong impression after reading, so it is true that this book may be extremely incomprehensible for beginners, but for professionals it is very clear and helpful.

“Acid Rain Day” is a poem that is presented in the most beautiful light. It is one of the long poems that are free forms, as well as many poems that you will read here of course with great joy, it is wonderful when that love is still cultivated sincere and pure, which is drinkable according to the times to come, nature and culture of living on which we observe “for granted”. Much is offered here, from family values to encouragement in every desire, for yet the courage today is that anything can be done, and be warted to ruin. It all makes you laugh when you are a parent who puts herself in her roots and supports the virgin, not to cry and be happy when she lives her true dream that must come true anyway. It is the poem that talks about parenthood, courage and the very culture of living, the epilogue of the event is all the memories of the window that are watched in silence.

It is important to say that everything is very nicely packaged, from the composition of the parents to the black bird that flies silently in songs, sometimes a happy epilogue and sometimes sad give a psychological meaning to a person to develop his writing and focus on a reality that never she was no closer. After reading this you can be very proud of yourself, because it is wonderful at the end of each work to realize that there are some emotions that you also live, that we all live. That is why the poems serve us, as well as Acid Rain Day to show that there is joy between every sorrow, even though it is the window of the observer’s eye, it depends on the time we live in, so it will be for us. And I, I tell you to read this book and to happily share your advice with everyone around you, because only in this way can some things be experienced and be as wonderful and fabulous as ever. In the end, the message of this book is to love yourself, to empathize with others, and to live always, but always for your dreams and desires that you have buried in your memory data, part of the real brain.

Book Review by Maid Corbic: 2 poems by Maid Corbic : Counterculturality & Decriptivity II