All delirious and bitter,
whispers in blue-shadow light—
“needs must,” she says,
the TV on, urging their mad dreams
of what if—
But after,
when the lathered red lust is over,
and death chants crushed,
who recalls us?
Through mist, I watch the moon—sleep, sing, shine.
And as the fiddler sprays a thousand diamonds into the sky
they soar, time-aching with echoed whys.
My poem from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. This time, she really gave me everything (except echo). She obviously knows what’s going on in the world.
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 
Vincent’s art always brings tears to my eyes, and you captured this feeling in your poem Merril 🙏❤️🥲
Thank you, Ingrid! ❤️ I chose the image after I wrote the poem.
In that case it was a good choice 😊
Thank you! 😀
Oh how wonderful! The Oracle and you make such a wonderful team. I love this. And, of course, the perfect painting to go with it.
Thank you so much, Dale. The first lines came right from the first two lines the Oracle showed me.
I didn’t have an image in mind, but then I thought of what I had in my gallery.
Wow! She was über generous today!
That one or the fiddler could have worked 😉
I thought of the Chagall’s fiddler first, but I used it so recently. . .
That’s what I thought 😉
😀
Obviously…since my poem says the exact same thing. (sigh) (K)
I just read yours–yes, and sigh.
These are the lines that most resonated with me. The human condition, it would seem.
But after,
when the lathered red lust is over,
and death chants crushed,
who recalls us?
Thank you, Liz.
Yes, I think so.
You’re welcome, Merril.
Yes, well, we are the same person after all, so what’s the surprise?
P.S. I couldn’t find the Chagall fiddler. I wondered if you were using it…
😀
With the stars shining this night in the glow of the moon reflecting upon the sea, I shall go shortly to sleep with this beautiful image and words imprinted and give thanks to your a oracle and pen Merril –
How lovely, Susan! Thank you very much. 💙
Beautiful, Merril!
Thank you, Jill!
Like Liz, these lines resonated with me:
But after,
when the lathered red lust is over,
and death chants crushed,
who recalls us?
Your poem is lovely and suits the painting to a tee. It leaves my heart heavy, but that’s the beauty of poetry, isn’t it?
Thank you very much, Marie.
I’m so sorry it left your heart heavy. I really just went where the Oracle led me today, and I intended it to be more of something to think about than sorrow.
Oh, no worries, Merril! It’s just with all the death … and death going on, my mind naturally went there. But your poem gave my feelings a release, a voice (?), and I appreciate that. Kind of like a song that makes you cry but you listen to it over and over anyway because you love it … hope that makes sense 🙂
It definitely makes sense, and it’s a lovely compliment. Thank you! 💙
As do you. (know what’s going on in the world)
Thank you. 😀
Love this. And that painting. And you are so lucky to have such an all-knowing oracle.
Awww–thank you, Luanne! 😀