Van Gogh - poem
49Van Gogh
The cracked pot
Wherein genius blooms
So readily
His art itself
Soothed his pain
Gave joy to his tortured soul
Anguish was his mate
And bitterness his mistress
His room a simple cell
His Arlesian café quixotic
His exuberant stars voluptuous
Surrounded by citron sunflowers
He realized himself
And his gift
Completely
And therein lies his paradox.
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You most definitely captured the man, the troubled soul. I created my pen name Vincent Moore with Van Gogh in mind. Him and I could have been friends we share the same abyss. Beautifully penned my poet,you have the gift.
snakeslane Level 7 Commenter 8 months ago
Love your ode to Vincent Van Gogh, bursting with images of his paintings, the bed, the stars, the fields the flowers, all here on the page.