sprawled figures basking in the impressionist sun
shooting through a break in the clouds

he said
you are forest thick brush strokes of my outdoors

a window opening on landscapes devoid of human presence
my lack of sharpness, my fine edges

he said
you are my fleeting glimpse of forgotten languages

an ephemeral moment
lived without a straight jacket

he spoke of water lilies and japanese bridges
imprisoned in an imperfect symmetry

and a dream he had of a cuckoo
pardoned by time

your heart is river shaped
he said

your winds intensely colored and homeless
howl through my trees

i was his mother’s womb
he said

throwing his elongated shadow
on my walls as

I flung off my everything to expose
my naked body to the firing squad


* Originally published at Morality Park

Author: Blogging_with_Bojana

I'm diggin' Need to grow, have to push Flicking through vinyl and feeding the rush I dig for that one and I open the haunt It's takin' all day from the back to the front I'm diggin' and diggin' You know Sorry baby I'm gone diggin' www.bloggingwithbojana.com

45 thoughts on “LE DEJEUNER SUR L’HERBE”

  1. This…this is pure brilliance and magic made real. This is not just fresh for you, it is just fucking fresh. I can’t even think of the proper adjectives to tell you!!!

    This line: you are forest thick brush strokes of my outdoors

    This is a world of its own wrapped in your voice. If there are people attached to the inspiration for this, they are the two luckiest people alive.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. No, I can’t. I just checked it and that page uses cookies. Don’t take it personally but a similar set-up screwed up my computer a month ago, wiped part of my files and I had to spend money with a tech to fix it. I don’t even follow pages that places cookies anymore. Sorry.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I understand. Do it from mine then.

        That means you won’t be able to follow my prose as of Oct any more because I’ll be publishing there first, then reblogging.
        I even mentioned a post of yours once.


  2. Bon jour, mon petit chou qui-n’a-pas-le-choix-de-m’aimer- et-pire-de-me-quitter. Notre liaison est dangereuse mais necessaire. Plus j’observe ce petit poeme, plus je sens ton corps amoureux se glisser sur la page. Une grosse bise.

    Liked by 1 person

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