Vincent In The Mines
Black holes in space pull everything in,
like heaven with nobody guarding the gates.
It's hard to know if the streets are gold,
'cause nobody sends postcards.
It may be too dark for pictures,
but you can see stars, I guess.
Black holes in earth pull at miners,
like hell with no amusements.
Even the missionary Van Gogh
didn't send pictures from the mines,
but he got out and saw the starry night.
He got out and saw sunflowers
before the black holes in his spirit
pulled everything in.
- Ralph Murre
3 comments:
Wow! this is incredible...the imagery and the words all mesh together to create a perfect piece!
thanks, hajera - i kinda like it myself.
Thinking about him always pulls me into a bit of a sad mood, mulling over the scenes HE sees, as his condition (late in his life) has permitted. Hmm. That aside, I've fallen for this piece, from the title alone which I think most apt and endearing. The analogies take me on a trip onto the 'beautiful sadness' of a life like a snow-globe version of what the universe holds, somewhere, in store.
Cheers. ^_^
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