You dwell in my simplified compositions
in a world filled with squares and rectangles
pulsing with the rhythm of Mozart and Rilke
You’re my color master, my Blue Rider

I am a playful sense of absurdity
a prolonged line across your pages turning bolder
I’m your recovery from numb unresponsiveness
your deadness wiped away

You are my throbbing forms
my dancing hieroglyphs, and otherworldly creatures
children play in your head with paper patterns

I am your topsy-turvy checkerboards
in the metaphysical realm you inhabit
under screaming Tunisian suns

You are my Expressionism
I am your Creative Confession
on a star
amongst stars

We are Anne Frank’s marbles rediscovered
in the attic
toads populate our brains
returning to the pond of their birth to breed


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'


    1. I wrote it a while ago, but was tied up with other writings. At first, I didn’t mean to post anything before New Year, but had an epiphany yesterday. I thought a love poem would be nice and heart-warming for Xmas. The bottom line is that’s all we need.
      (thank YOU)

      Liked by 4 people

      1. I csn sleep when I’m dead, lol. Seriously, I do sleep, but only for an hour or two at a.time before the pain from.leg cramps or restless leg spasms wakes me up. I have had to.sleep in a recliner heart surgery two years ago. If I did try to sleep in our bed, I would probably.keep up with my spasms, etc.

        Liked by 1 person

  1. “I’m your recovery from numb unresponsiveness, your deadness wiped away”.
    Wow, this is stunningly written, absolutely love it. Glossy like a marble, it rolls smoothy from word to word with a weight of poignancy. x

    Liked by 1 person

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