By John Kruth
a poem for vincent van gogh
on his 169th birthday
everything was alive
in your absinthe-green eyes
when only deep shades of blues
could still sooth your black moods
and red vineyards cloaked you
from the darkness
of the ever-encroaching winter
some say it was glaucoma or lead
poisoning that caused you to see
halos around everything
but maybe you were
just closer to heaven
than that drab bunch of potato
eaters who lived next door
everything you witnessed
breathed electricity
the shape of the wind
and clouds spinning in turbulent skies
as gray clouds like dark birds rose
from your pipe and sunflowers danced
with delight in the vase on your table
all the colors we knew
turned a different hue
when you painted them
and the wheat waved back in gratitude
so drop that pistol vincent,
the paintbrush will always love you better
nobody saw the world through your eyes
for another hundred years or so
and by that time, you were long gone
never knowing your paintings
— John Kruth, 2022

A Portrait of Augustine-Alix Pellicot Roulin, 1851–1930) 1889

April–May 1882
A beautiful touching Poem thank you so much
Love from Stevie Kalinich
thanks stevie
WExcellent poem! A wonderful tribute!