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Self Portrait
I turn my back on this frosty morning
Stubbornly licking my insincere tears
I am not to be comforted by the weary and old
Rude and common, threadbare in the age of riches
Stirring wind in our pots of gold
Not fit to beg on a church's steps
Not presentable enough to step out in the street
I hang my head like a child
Finding himself in the crook of an arm
His legs still kicking and raising the dust
That never settles his wild refuse I wait to be gathered in these unwanted arms
Already vibrating around me like an aura
Making the taste of my wantonness exquisite
// A poem by Oana Rusu Tomai
March 2021
Acrylic and Oil on canvas
Dreams
The distance between how I thought my life would be and how it came to be, I don't know to calculate it. ....
Random Thoughts: The distance of dreams (sandadiary.blogspot.com)
January 2022
Acrylic on canvas
Blindfolded
In the country of blindness
Having eyes is serious offence
Keen eyed is advised to wear blinkers
// Haiku by SRIRANJI ARATISANKAR
February 2022
Acrylic on canvas
Silenced
Deafening Silence (Haiku)
Quietly, I lie
In the deafening silence
As it - shouts to me.
Walterrean Salley
March 2022
Acrylic on canvas
Hope
Close your eyes, see me. That’s where I hope to remain. Resting in your mind.
// Haiku, Sara J.
March 2022
Acrylic on canvas
Broken
She could be
the Beauty and the Beast
a Sinner or the Priest
the Hunger and the Feast
Could she be
March 2022
Acrylic on canvas
Pieces
You don't know this new me; I put back my pieces differently
December 2022
Acrylic on canvas paper, digitalized version
Items available as NFTs from OpenSea @opensea.io/sandaberar