Poem -
Egg Yolk on a Comet's Tail
For The Magnificent Vincent Van Gogh
It is I, who lays awake night after night
my mind going round
on its very own carousel of madness
that never seems to quiet down
so I look, I look up at the stars
from my bedroom window
gazing up at the stars forever hoping
I see my very own comet?
the beauty I see up there
I hope one day to see within myself
I’m yet to see the comet
It is I, who lays awake night after night
my mind going round
on its very own carousel of madness.
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Comments
Hello Shirley...
Do you think we have a connection there?
Great write!
Thank you for sharing...
CHEERS for ALL DAY PASSES!
sparrowsong
lol if I wasn't imagining that this poem was written by Vincent himself then yes , although he was more genius than potty. Thank you dear sparrowsong 🌹
An insight no less, imagining the future of yourself: value for wellbeing amongst ( angst )? Shows foresight which is wise. 🤔
Dear Rory, I was simply studying his picture imagining where the idea came from, his comet was his fame, the picture shows stars that look like eggs. He was never famous in life but only in death. So he was and still is his very own comet. Thank you, lovely to see you and it's lovely to hear what the reader takes from my scribbles. Thank you. 🌹
Nevertheless whose ever foresight it may have been, my case rests.
That's the best and most favourite part of the arts for me, thank you so much Rory, 100% agreed. 🌹