Haiku About Vincent Van Gogh

February 5, 2015 at 7:46 pm (Art, History, Poetry) (, , , , )

Haiku About Vincent Van Gogh

Starry night Van Gogh
eyes of China blue with slice
of ear missing too

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Green Tea For A Green Dragon

February 18, 2013 at 11:22 pm (Humour, Poetry) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

Green tea for a green dragon

because he was on the wagon

his early days he spent drinking green absinthe

which caused him to lose his common sense

and so this led him to join AA

to escape the clutches of the green fair-ee.

 

 

 

Although he was no Oscar Wilde

he was considered a precious child

-a youthful 1000 years-

at concerts he gave many bronx cheers

and although he tried to be another Charles Baudelaire

his style of French just could not compare

and so he tried painting like Toulouse-Lautrec

but only ended up a nervous wreck

and he lost the chance to meet Hemingway

when he missed the train at Santa Fe.

 

 

And so his youth was misspent

he had no money to pay the rent

and thus he ended up on the street

where gangsta dudes made fun of his feet.

“I can’t help being a dragon,”  said he

burying his heart at wounded knee

and so he went on the wagon

this absinthe drinking green dragon

and that’s why these days you’ll only see

our hero dragon drinking green tea.

 

 

 

 

 

-A poem written by Christopher

 circa 3:28 PM Saturday afternoon

 February 16th 2013.

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The Painting: Where The Medium Is The Message

October 12, 2011 at 10:20 pm (Short Story) (, , , )

He looked at the woman in the painting.

The painting of the dark haired woman in the beautiful white dress.

She was holding a yellow rose in her hand and smelling the scent.

A light from an oil lamp or fireplace (not visible in the painting) seemed to cast a reddish orange reflective glow on the woman’s beautiful face.

The swirls of her delicate dress accentuated the curves of her body.

She looked sad- the woman.

How he longed to reach out and touch her.

How he longed to reach out and hold her.

Tell her that she was loved.

That he loved her.

That she was not alone in the world.

He reached out his hand towards the painting.

* * *

The dark haired woman in the white dress looked up at the painting.

The man in the painting seemed to be reaching out towards her.

He looked at her with warm and loving and compassionate eyes.

He seemed to want to touch her.

To hold her.

To tell her that she was loved.

That he loved her.

That she was not alone in the world.

She reached out her hand towards the painting.

* * *

-A short story written by Christopher Van Helsing
Wednesday evening October 12th 2011
inspired by a painting by the Spanish artist Gomperez
a painting that once belonged to my dad
now belongs to me.
My favourite painting of his entire art art collection.

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