🌱Special Mother's Day issue 🌱 Five poems by Erzsébet Zubor poetess 🌱
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Philosophical and humanist poetess Erzsébet Zubor
has been writting since 1994.
A poetess visionary and spiritual, her writtings based on philosophical deep thoughts and nature, personal experiences contain excellent sarcasm and criticism of society.
Hungarian authors Béla Hamvas and Imre Madách are true inspirational sources by their similar life experiences, although lived in different time.
She written essays,
haiku poems inspired by Japanese and Chinese poetry,
lyrical poems : 3 cycle of poems: "Water, Earth, Sky",
and psychodrama called "Androgynos".
"The sunken world", "The Home of Trees" are prophetic pieces, as well
transcendental and visionary, written in the spirit of Prophets of the Old Testament
reflected on the bias of society.
She chosen as her motto:
"Angry For And Not Against You"
by Attila József Hungarian poet.
Follow Zubor Erzsebet on Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/zuborerzsebet/
A poem from the psychodrama called "Androgynos".
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The Different
(Pretence and reality)
The Clown
I'm the clown
I'm creating the performance
Applouded by my audience
(just because I need badly their attention )
And then, I am standing on my head
Upside down there, I'm singing
The song of my heart
Maybe this time you're paying close attention
My Dear Audience
I'm the clown
I wear a mask on my face.
My costume is changing
As the Age and Fashion dictates
(To me, it's all just a façade.
Illusion)
The
Substance
(The song of my heart)
It's always the same
1997
No code X. ( AI)
50x70 cm, 19.6 x 27.5 in
acrylic on canvas
2021
"No code IX. (AI)
55x46 cm, 21.5x18.1 in
acrylic on canvas
2021
🌸🌸🌞 🌞 Urban artwork by dakini.hu 2021 - No code IX.- X. (AI) 💙 💙 🌸🌸 (krisztinaasztalos.blogspot.com)
Info-circus
50x70 cm, 19.6x29.5 in
acrylic on canvas
2021
🌞🌞"Info-circus", URBAN artwork by dakini.hu/ 04/01/2021🌞🌞 (krisztinaasztalos.blogspot.com)
Ballad of Power
The Power is a metallic machine
Easily cut off your feet and hands
Grinds by it’s edge, turning and glittering
Presses to order you, compresses
Installs you in its wall as an obedient brick
By you buildup it’s own Tower of Babel
1998
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About the poem Coppelia by the author written in 1997.
I hope my poem shows that this is not really about a female robot.
By Coppelia, I intend, to symbolize the female figures of today's spirit of our age.
They are the ones who, in offices, engage in monotonous, soulless activities next to computers, either work in today's mechanized production factories, or perform the same work agonizingly in the treadmills of business.
It applies to all those who are treated by those above them, according to their own purposes and interests, only as tools of work, as programmable creations without their own personality and emotions.
The Different
(Pretence and reality)
Coppelia
I.
Programs implanted in her brain
her heart is embedded in a computer
throbbing on swirling circuits
beats on the system network
Coppelia like a series, a copy
Not a woman, just a machine
a robot
Spin Coppelia
Spin,
Spin, spin, spin
Your mind is just a data bank,
Information box,
Fixes, stores, summarizes
Ejects results
Spin Coppelia,
Spin... Spin... Spin...
Guided by the built-in template brain
Your Programs are running fast
(Suddenly the template may have slipped
Something wrongly taped
The Brain of this strange replica
rotates very differently)
Behind Coppelia's forehead
Unpredictable circuits
Rebellious microprocessors
The system feels narrow for Coppelia
Dreams, memories, analogies invade her brain
including different viruses
She may not be controlled by a machine?
while moving like a puppet
II.
An ancient master, Pygmalion
created a strange statue.
Locked her into a wonderful shape
He breathed a tiny smile on her face
And the Master fell in love with his own work.
Because he carved his desires in the stone
And who was intended for immobility
His statue stood there, engaged
with timelessness.
Her beauty was reflected thru the materia
Then the desperate Pygmalion
(For there were masters above him)
He turned to the gods for help
Asked a miracle, free her from the stone
Bring the girl to life
The statue stood still, silently
But there was a tiny smile around her mouth
Pygmalion’s
Wish has been fulfilled
Because the statue has become a living woman
You don't remember that anymore.
But the Gods did something good
Had mercy on Pygmalion.
......
The centuries continue to run
And every age reproduces Coppelia
Because the Woman statue locked in the spirit of age
Make Wishes and Thinks There must be a Pygmalion
While programs are running and flashing
In Our Coppelia poor robot head
This wish for a Pygmalion
It's just spinning
Spin... Spin... Spin....
1997
Human Nr 10
100x70 cm
mixed media on paper
1999
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/coppelia-poem-erzs%C3%A9bet-zubor-poetess-krisztina-asztalos/
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HAPPY #WATERDAY 2022 🦈🐋🐳🐬🐟🐠💧💦🌊🌊💦💦💦 🐬🐬Aqua NR3 150x266,5 cm, 59 x 104.9 inches ink on paper 2003 by dakini.hu 💦💦💦💜💜🐬🐬 (krisztinaasztalos.blogspot.com)
The sunken world
The first status report from the Planet named Earth for the Universe
The Assigned Creatures of Planet Earth
trees, plants, animals
created one after the other
(According to science it is evolution)
At the very end of the process:
The human.
The Human
Revolving and spinning
Planet Earth has given us
We make a living from it
We are buried in it
We rule earth, water, sky
Everything was created here
For us
The spirit of Earth
The forms of my spirit are alive
My beautiful daughters are the colors
The sound of wind and water is my music
Flowers, fruits, trees are
All wonderful essences of existence
Animals live in liminal world
Hustle and bustle
In earth, water, sky
The joy and rhythm of their movements are
The Grateful Hymn of Existence
There is a will to live in them
In the raw pleasure of instincts
Savagery and affection
Most complex being of mine:
The Human
Most painful facts for me
His Spirit is rioting inside at the same time
as humans remember the primordial Material
But as the ignorant child of Nature
Grows up and forget that he is also
part of the Nature
Almost imagining himself as God
Creates and destroys by demolition
In greed, he raises his hand to get the Tree of life
But if he stops the great circle of existence
Says no to his own existence
The last status report from the Planet named Earth for the Universe
The Scientist
We have owned the Earth for a long time.
We mismanaged it
Unfortunately, resources are dwindling
In our cells we lack of oxygen.
We are burnt by the sun (ultraviolet rays)
The above mentioned elements are
Means of sustenance
The Environmentalist
The Blue Planet is dying called The Planet Earth
First the birds will become silent
Our trees are dying and
We smother with them
The life of the waters is in distress
The Waste flies up to ozone zone
The Philosopher
Only the Endless Vigil unsleeping
The Day of Narrow Reality
secludes oneself with a superiority
Falsely sparkling thousand heads
dizzyingly rushes to the
Great Child of Earthly Existence
The Poet
In the Ancient Jungles of Dreams
Hustle and Bustle
Rotating Machine-Brains
Their ledges had
Reached too close the tree of life
The irons of culture plough the ancient soil
Where the roots of instincts stretch
And it clings to the Salt of Life
Ancient memory attenuated
sprouting barren flowers
grows wormy fruit
No poetry
No music anymore
Only the rythm of machine noise
In coldly rotating metal hearts
Synthetic compound is the blood, sap
Elastic nerves bring the stimulus to the brain
But at night the Imagination as a stiff teenager
Still saunters in heavenly fields
rolls with clouds of stars
You can't see the filth at night.
The stream cries at night
Above the dwindling bed
The coastal shadow pondering
The Visionary
The Diamond Joy of Being
Fell on millions of shards of glass
Philosopher's Stone
Will no longer shine up
We have forgotten our ancient instinct.
it can no longer be born with us
Our naive, childlike faith
Good and simple
Guarded us defensive
The sun, the moon, and the spirit of the waters
used to be alive
The Prayer of the Earthling
We look for you Lord forever and ever.
But is your world still can be found
Lord?
1996
" Composers"
acrilyc and gold and silver pigment on canvas
diptych
100x70 cm
2012
Urban/ HU series / Composers, Hungary (krisztinaasztalos.blogspot.com)
On the pathes of Colors
Maypole
Spring of childhood
Rustling May pole
Dancing Golden-green
Early ray of sunshine
Winds oscillate
Tousle and tear
The tremulous leaves
On bruissement of foliage
Rustling ribbons
Like rainbow circles
Floating away
Snow-white ribbons
flutter and float
Pale pinks
circulate and rotate
Deep dark purple
Dancing with the yellows
The blue ones are flying
Flowing through the sky
Red, green ribbons
Laughing in the wind
Springtime of childhood
Rustling May pole
Floating away
As rainbow circle
1996
Space
20 cm
acrylic and gold pigment
on canvas
2009
On the pathes of Colors
Bridges
It Would be so good to paint bridges
A Rainbow bridge between heaven
And earth
Which spans space and time
A cool shadow pillars for the blinding light
A golden bridge on the lake of darkness
Says farewell to the peaceful departing
Offers a new day for the arrivals.
The Bridge of Sighs
Floats
Over the sleepers at dawn
Soul bridges that connect
life and death
Every Bridges are Station of Hope
Rainbow Bridge
There meet the colors
And All those Hearts who
lost their pathes of colors
1996
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/sunken-world-maypole-bridges-3-poems-erzs%C3%A9bet-zubor-asztalos/
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