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.
-
Author:
Teddy.15 (
Offline) - Published: March 10th, 2024 05:00
- Comment from author about the poem: Vincent Van Gogh, a fascinating man and fascinating painting he did paint.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet, Bella Shepard.
Offline)
Comments9
I'm with you, Teddy; Vincent has something (soothing tone) very special...........
But of greater concern would be your very severe insomnia........
Oh no dear Dave, I wanted to write about the mind of Van Gogh of course the twist being written by me. I sleep very well apart from the odd time someone breaks my balls, it's a Menopause thing lol 🌹
Breaks your Balls? Menopause? I think It's me who is a going to a have a disturbed night......😇
Do the best you can, Teddy....
Words oh so beautiful Teddy. Rest assured, your comet burns brightly just for you. 🌹
Thank you my dear A.P so did that of Van Gogh he just never knew it. 🌹
He knows it now thanks to you. 😉👍
I too would like to think Van Gogh created his masterpiece after looking out on the heavens on a sleepless night. I love the texture, colour and movement of this beautiful painting. He had such a troubled mind and yet this artwork brings in some much needed light. Your words dear Teddy capture well the mental torture he had to endure. A fine tribute. Have a wonderful Sunday. 🌹
Wow, thank you so much dear Cassie58 I was hoping it would be, I studied him at school in London when I was really young, loved every minute of my research. Thank you so much. 🌹
I agree. As I write this, I am sitting at my desk. I have an old wooden art set with Starry Night on it—tremendous work.
Thank you dear Thomas, I truly appreciate your visits 🌹 I know you are very fond of this most wonderful Van Gogh yourself. So thank you Sir. 🌹
There certainly is something incredible about Van Gogh's work.
I have a jigsaw of that painting, it is not easy to do.
Fine words Teddy.
Andy
Thank you dear Andy. 🌹
A beautiful thought but I believe the the stars above are nothing more than a reflection of the stars within and thereby you yourself. As for the comet don't be too anxious Mark Twain was born with Haley's comet and died with its coming again.
Ah my dear sorrenbarret so very kind of you to say, I was reflecting on the painting and what I could possibly imagine it, I see those stars somewhat like egg yolks. Thank you dear friend. 🌹
Looking up at the stars in the darkness, the stillness of night, is a feeling you have found the words to describe beautifully. It calms the mind and the soul, even if just for a while, to gaze upon what seems infinite. Incredible!
Hello dear Bella, thank you much, I'm so glad you got that feeling. 🌹
I am comforted by the thought that the sky is beautiful even when the sun is gone. Thank you for your poem, Teddy. It succinctly portrays a surely universal moment of vulnerability--and I like the egg-yolk image 😀
Hello dear Kieran, a very warm welcome to my page, thank you for your gorgeous words. We as was the great Vincent Van Gogh are all vulnerable in some way, I think his artwork is truly fascinating and as I posted this I was vulnerable to know how others would see it, I'm so grateful it was so very well received. Thank you Sir. 🌹
And suddenly those words I am living…
My dear Spill's, I hope all is well my dear friend. 🌹 Thank you for coming by ❤️
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