art.tra

in any relationships at times

one of the partners in love

just as in crime/ disappears.

in the circle of artists it is

ever more delicate

due to a geometry of triangulation

that rules over one’s emotional

life:

the ebb and flow of inspiration

at its peak of success

opposed by the dark shadow

of destruction/ quite often from

the lips of a ghosting jealousy

partner in crime of the shadow world’s

members/ aka pilferers of art

sneaking into exhibition spaces

claiming selective pieces

as there are no watching drones

alerted to neutralize the culprits

somebody called the military arm

of the leaches of society. crash!

somebody crunching a watercolour

screech! it’s the slicing of a canvas

but these are also acts of artwork’s

selfdestruction

built into the presentable frames

the new direction of art presentation?

really?

perhaps a grand effect for the moment

of a work under the hammer of an

auctioneer.

the art enthusiast will pick up the pieces

uncrumble the paper

re-establishing the sliced canvas as a new

diptych/ triptych/ multitych.

this’ the eternal repetitive circle in our

western culture

however/ art derives from able

if it would be from want it’ll called wable

art from abilities

tra from wanting.

art.tra

zoltanzelan

zjg poetry’21.

surprises

can you see the sorrow behind

my smile/ the love behind my

my anger/ and the reason behind

my silemce?

as stated to trust only somebody

who could! the poet muses about

this quote by Love Wide Open on

facebook.

perhaps his muse could/ or so

he may often had the feeling

deep inside him that she would

have that sixth sense/ so often

talked about –

especially if a poet had met

a potential soulmate

who cares about his art.

i’m blessed/ he muses/ as life

still may hold one or more surprises

in store for him

building-up a last ditched effort

for seeing thru’ a year of waiting

for a chance of exhibiting his art

an undertaking already been given.

surprises.sesirprus

zoltanzelan

zjg poetry’21.

pink moon

who is this woman?

calling with a short breath’s consternation

in midst of a snowstorm that turns out to be

white ash from a hydrogene bomb trial

in the atoll.

of course for the militarist

she’s just a replaceable person

and she doesn’t matter.

for the humanist/ the artist/ the poet

her life is important and she has not deserved

to end thru a nuclear fission

and its aftercauses of contamination.

And so these happenings continued

unfortunately

from the chenobyl disaster to fokoshima

japan –

and the world still carries on with

such madness nation clambering

for ownership of joining the nuclear

league of ruling the world thru’ fear.

who is this woman?

calling in the midst of a furnace-like

storm

that explodes in her heart

and she sends her mind to join the

poet’s

who’ll write down their dialogue

for years to come.

is it the muse who had a sudden

call of duty to serve her patients?

is it the tragedy of ageing that dulls

and confuses feelings

and pushes libidos to the back-burner

of life’s kitchen?

it is patience and endurance

during these testing times of forced

indifference between humans

that’s needed/ the muse stated

donating paper and pen to the bard

during this pink moon state of mind.

a lafontaine drawing block for the

artist

with a set of rotring fineliners

to create works of art.

pinkmoon.noomknip

zoltanzelan

zjg poetry’21.

naked lunch

he has not yet hada good look into

the depth of her eyes

but recalls quick glances at a luncheon’s

conversation

she had set up celebrating his birthday

no 81/ he shook inside hit by a quiver

that ran down his spine.

what did he make of it?

she/ with crystallic-blue eyes

offers him friendship

he took wholeheartedly.

reflecting on her appearance :

her skin like porcelain

his eyes searched for her breasts

she kept hidden below her wide

garb

although he senses generous sizing

in indicative outlines.

she rises quickly to serve some

french baguette and cheese

the artist in him is stirred by her

full-moon derriere

reminding him of an ernst fuchs

sculpture called erotic goddess

with strong feet her shapely body

well supported and the artist wishes

to study her most imposing nude

he tells her

but she would still shy away from

that notion

taking instead portrait fotographs

of the poet/artist in different

positions she asks for.

would she also take image-snaps

of his nude?

one day/ the poet muses/ one day

they will have sessions of drawing

their nudes followed up by lunch.

naked lunch?

zoltanzelan

zjg poetry’21.

thirteenth song

because i’ve written something

of importance

that’s part of my existence

i wanted to share with you

looking forward to reveal it

to you

yet these verses might mislead

as i sat dumbfounded

having lost an important portion

of my erotic life

or is it just self-pity

i’m indulging in right now?

i was a bit deeper

finding myself in a groove

recollected and poised

to write down my intimate

thoughts/ my innermost emotions

that lately rule my imprisoned

life/ this life/ completely useless

until i have some close and

intimate contact i cannot do

without

like a set of parts that sustain

my life/ parts that are more than

just sustenance

without them i just will perish

little by little/ in small packages

that’ll drop from my heart’s

storge system

that depletes its urgency of virility

and lets me fade into the far

distance –

a long-lost friend

who faded-out of your life

a pale horizon that disappears

behind a swill of waves

at a boat trip to an island

bleached-out in the bright and

sunny days/ your summer’s months

a summer i seek to be with you

in you

living with you

door to door

eye to eye

body to body

in all the nights

friends together at daytime

yet lovers together

always at night.

i cling to your body

desperate and with hope

to be with you in the most

intimate moments

and to stay with you in hardships

and the sufferings of our souls.

at last! i feel your body’s warmth

close to me

in this huge bed of smooth and

heated-up emotions

let my heart revive and find

my loving slide into you

to the beat of our excitements

that a well-traveled bard matured

to love you well

and deeply

could still excite you

with his body’s pounding

tossing your innermost

into a frenzy

of so many lustful cries.

zoltanzelan

zjg poetry’21

art & love

acronyms created in the sketches of

mind’s characters

the poet has created an infusion of reality

and dream

imagination rules just like in any piece of

literary effort

since talented people started to write

like ino – the poet has created for his novel

about muses/ he’s still working on.

happiness in love is short-lived/ but he would

look back at his loves/ yet he wouldn’t boast

with numbers but look at qualities of those

loves/ analyzing these/ only a few are left:

frieke/ simchi/ violet/ ana/ hanna/ and maybe

ino in the making/ perhaps a few of virtual

loves/ called cyberloves.

write it down/ the poet’s inner voice hollers

the poet of love will stay true to his colours

set all out truthfully.

he’ll think of retiring from journal-poetry

on the internet and publish his selected poems

on BoD-Books on Demand Norderstedt

publishers for an affordable price

presenting his followers and friends

with his works of art & love.

art & love.evol & tra

best of his palindromes.

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’21.

ino

since our eyes met and dived

into a sea of sympathy

our minds have followed

at the same time in regular

intervals. hm.

the seeds of understanding

sown into the hearts at one

time

have brought thru’ a most

adorable plant albeit delicate

like first flowers in spring.

since our dedication to art

your voice appreciates mine

fate has prepared a bed of

roses for our minds to rest

upon

where our bodies seem to

hanker about in the frozen

touch of shyness

as if awaiting the warm rays

of the sun

to energize our feelings

we like to share.

since the passing of the

greek muse promising to send

me a new muse

has she done so by the sudden

reappearance of ino?

the post may believe in

universal forces

but will believe it when we

have intertwined like

aged vines.

zoltanzelan

zjg poetry’21.

longing

the poet who experiences the word:

‘longing for you’

in varied portions of intensity

especially thru’ the medium of comm’s

atan instant/ on intuition/ feelings for

embraces –

that come like waves of the sea

stronger and stronger like ebb and flow

a constant appearing of emotions of

being together –

something that has happened already

in the mind

but in the body language it’s still

seated in the atmosphere of a dreamlike

subconscious.

this thought is quite important to the

poet/ artist/ writer/ creative

human being: togetherness with a muse

a loved one will be felt as a most important

act for survival.

this notion will develop and take-off

on a life of its own

and in the soul-bonding that has happened

years ago

it’ll push to the fore of being also

physically together for the union

to complete itself.

autoeroticism is already on its way

to a duo-eroticism.

‘i want you!’ the inner voice shouts

yet the body acts a bit shy or reserved

not for reasons of having been hurt

once/ but from a lack of confidence

not being able to satisfy the partner

with one’s own sexual projections

one’s own perspective of what seems

to be satisfaction in love that’s though

closer to lust/ perhaps too selfish

as one recalls the last sexual love

where the experienced love interest

expressed her likes and dislikes

in sexual acts/ the ways to satisfy

a lover’s needs/ for both partners.

hello poet! are you afraid of sexual

underperformance?

besides/ what are all these fears?

let go and stop the games of the

overworked mind/ just like in writing

be speedy and bypass the controlling

beast.

well/ the poet muses: i have no sexual

fears/ but the old man in him laughs

out loud. ‘Shut up!’

better ask your muse and let eroticism

develop steadily/ not kill like an

amphylactic shock falling over her

without a preparation

of the thrashing floor of love

as Gibran says in his poems.

perhaps the poet’s star sign had influence

to create fear of a failure at the moment

when the foreplay was about to

come to an end.

longing.gnignol

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’21.

(all artwork by zg art)

the palindrome effect

she has the initial appearance of

an earth mother

a voluptuous woman/ a rich meal

of delicious fare/ a ghosting appearance

in a time of puberty/ a rounded woman

with flesh aplenty

where dreams of fulfilled sexuality

are palpable

without having touched her

but intentions to do so are deeply

seated in the male libido

that senses the physical and mental

preparedness

for a great sexual encounter

indicated with talks on the telephone

yet/ as all conversation may be recorded

and although one is more straight out

on the comm’s electronical interlink

than eye to eye –

when the need to do it is böocked out

by the interchange of info about books

and stimulating tools for mastering

the art of writing

besides all other artistic expressions

to further one’s self-realization.

voila! She’s a fully fledged photographer

and wishes to take snaps of one’s

portrait/ loose one’s self-conciousness

of being photographed/ she wishes

you telling her stories so that the artist

dives into a relaxing mood

while she snaps away on her minolta.

front to back/ back to front/ this is

the palindrome effect the poet uses

since he had detected it in the poetry

of oddysseus elytis.

super/ she says/ her tongue slides

over her lips

as if she had tasted a sweet desert.

now then/ the poet muses/ all we do

in art is out of love

but only if we wish to contribute

with a positive attitude.

thank you for the talk/ she said

thank’s for having me/ he replies.

amen.nema

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’21.

hello sunday

sunday afternoon all’s quiet here

in weidling/ near vienna

yet countryside with customs and

in mind.

the poet sits back/ listening tohardbobs

life vol.1/ monk / rollins/ etc.

thanks to youtube and the great

internet connectivity to the world

of art and love.

yesterday night parsifal/ unbearable

but a good excuse to change channels

even if one’s spouse is a fan of opera –

and finish a painting’s rendering layer

on top of two watercolour layers.

next door’s art critique ‘A’ notived

the work in passing/ commented about

the underlying erotic genre on the

part abstract geometry of body parts:

you studied courbet?

‘why?’

there are parallels to his work.

‘really?´´i couldn’t fathom that with

my best intentions. nay.

whatever/ it’s great to loose oneself

in the labyrinth of shapes/ sizes/

perspectives/ and just to follow the

one’s inner voices

that are often as confusing to the

artist’s mind

as a wagner opera/ tristan and isolde

comes foremost to the artits’s mind.

hello sunday.

welcome to my art.

zoltanzelan

zjg poetry’21.