Poem Series – Vincent van Gogh and Ludwig van Beethoven #1 to #10
1.
Vincent and Ludwig # 1.
“Do you know, my dear Ludwig, that I’ve sold just one of my paintings?”
“Yes, Vincent, do not despair, my friend, they cannot, will not, fathom the flower that reveals its petals before their eyes”
“I suppose you are right, old friend. They cannot, will not, hear your ‘Ode to Joy’, though it is you who are deaf!”
“But my dear Vincent, you do hear my ‘Ode to Joy’, deep in your soul”
“Yes, I hear it, I feel it, Ludwig, flowing like liquid paint through the canvas of my veins”
“My dear Vincent, I too feel your brush-strokes, and in each swirl of colour I hear your joy, and I can touch your pain”
“What does that make us, my friend? Two men cast adrift on the bluest seas, leaving nothing behind, yet heading nowhere. What does that make us then?”, asks Vincent.
“Human”, replies Ludwig, smiling.
“Human, yes, dear Ludwig”.
“And that is enough”, says Ludwig, almost to himself.
“It is enough”, smiles Vincent.
“To be human. It is enough.”
Vincent laughs, as Ludwig watches a gentle wave caress their toes, through their tattered shoes.
2.
Ludwig and Vincent #2
‘what inspired you to write your 9th?’, Vincent asks Ludwig.
‘madness, dear Vincent. Distilled, concentrated madness’.
‘wasn’t it madness that drove you to sketch starry nights above a sea of Irises?’, Ludwig asks Vincent.
‘madness it was, Ludwig. A madness of the soul. Restless, frantic, maddening madness’, whispers Vincent.
‘what does that make us, my dear Vincent?’, Ludwig murmurs, leaning close to Vincent.
‘sane’, says Vincent.
‘yes, Vincent. Sane’, responds Ludwig.
Vincent reaches up and feels around for his phantom ear,
Ludwig smiles, touching his ear that once could hear.
3.
Talking with Vincent #3
Alone,
in conversation with Vincent, we talk.
‘loneliness got to me’, he says with a smile.
I smile. I know.
‘I tried, I honestly tried’, says Vincent.
I know. I tried as well.
‘I tired, eventually I just tired’, he said with a wink.
I am tired too, I said.
‘I know’, replied Vincent.
4.
Vincent and Ludwig #4
“we are mere vagabonds, scraping here and there, never belonging anywhere, and never wanting to belong somewhere” said Vincent to Ludwig.
“yes my dear Vincent, we walk this earth with tattered shoes, our madness binding us in friendship, feted now and then, yet mostly left to ramble through our lonesome lives” Ludwig says, looking down at his weather-beaten boots.
Vincent and Ludwig share a smile, each knowing the feelings felt when sinking deeper into the depths of despair.
“your ‘sunflowers’ always bores a hole into my heart, my dear Vincent, your flourishes live in the swirls and your warmth and love for humanity shines through, tearing at my insides” Ludwig murmurs to Vincent.
“just as your ‘ode to joy’ bores a hole into my soul, with your unselfish, transcendent love for all living beings, alive and resounding in every note” Vincent says, looking into the distance.
“what are we, my dear friend, tortured by our inner demons, left to rot by the wayside, torn and broken by this harsh world all around us” Ludwig asks Vincent.
“we may be mad, and maddeningly so, my friend, but why do we see the smiles washed off the faces of the sane, why do we we tears trickling down from far too many eyes” Vincent says with a rueful smile.
“yes, my dearest Vincent, it often appears that this whole world, this whole veneer of civility, these people who have enough yet always clamouring for more, while those who have nothing hunger for just scraps” Ludwig says, almost to himself.
“and we see it every day, in their greed glazed eyes, their grubby grabbing hands, their world they call sane” Vincent mumbles.
“what are we then, Vincent, in this world of naked oppression, in these places of vulgar ostentation, in the midst of all this madness” Ludwig asks, looking to his friend.
“we are sane, my friend” Vincent says tugging at his phantom ear.
“sane, yes Vincent. sane” Ludwig says with a smile, his fingers feeling his ear that once could hear.
“sane“
5.
Vincent and Ludwig #5
Vincent stared at the early evening sky.
Ludwig looked at his friend.
“why do we feel so alone, dear Ludwig, just look at this canvas, it bathes us, blankets us, and is filled with flashes of light” said Vincent.
“flashes of light, soaring like an orchestral crescendo, a blanket shared with a friend, yes, and yet, my dear Vincent, ifeel desolate”, whispered Ludwig.
“do you see the empty space between the flashes of light, my friend, that space is what your music colours“, Vincent said.
Ludwig looked up, smiling, ” yes, the space your colours infuse with hope, with every stroke of your brush, hope for those caught in all the empty spaces“.
“hope for us all, in each of our very own, empty spaces, yes“, Vincent smiled at his friend.
“empty spaces, but infused with colours, music, and hope“, whispered Ludwig, his smile broadening.
“hope“.
“hope“
6.
Vincent and Ludwig #6
“they call us mad, dear Vincent”, Ludwig said to his friend.
“even as you sketch starry nights on the blank canvas of this torrid life”.
“yes, my dear Ludwig, they call you insane too, even as you pluck odes to joy from the depths of deafness”.
“they call us mad”, whispers Vincent.
“mad, indeed”.
“I would rather be mad, than numb”, breathes Ludwig.
“I too would rather be mad than what they expect us to become”, Vincent sighs as the two men share a smile.
“mad, yet never mere shades of ice”.
7.
Vincent and Ludwig #7
“i paint starry nights, Ludwig, to help me forget each torrid day”
“and i compose odes to joy, Vincent, to keep pain at bay”
“we are alike, you and i, dear Ludwig”, Vincent says as he sketches a smile
“yes Vincent, we are alike, our tattered shoes yet to carry us across so many a mile”
8.
Vincent and Ludwig #8
“I often wonder how hands so coarse are able to infuse a stark, naked canvas into a symphony of sensual brushstrokes”, Ludwig says with a wink.
Vincent laughs, “as have I, wondered that is, how such a stark raving mad soul may transform a mere gaggle of notes into soaring orchestral harmony”.
Ludwig smiles, nodding at Vincent, who smiles at his bruised hands.
9.
Vincent and Ludwig #9
“i often write to Theo, my heart dripping bloodied ink on paper, burning up the parchment. Theo is my brother, dear Ludwig, who often sends me money, to get by” said Vincent.
“i understand, Vincent, life has dealt me similar circumstances, a jangle of cacophonous silence instead of the song of even the solitary bird” Ludwig breathes.
“i sketch my own pain”
“and i compose mine”
10.
Vincent & Ludwig #10
“oh to hear a bird singing perched on a fresh twig, weeping down willowy branches, into an azure stream”, said Ludwig to Vincent.
“yes, my friend Ludwig, my nightmares aren’t raucous, but silent”, murmured Vincent.
“a desolate silence”, Ludwig breathed.
“loneliness”, whispered Vincent.
“loneliness”.
11.
Vincent and Ludwig #11
“my dear Vincent”, breathes a pensive Ludwig.
“have you found any work as yet. I ask it rhetorically because I know the answer”
Vincent smiles, “your wit hasn’t forsaken you, my friend. Do you know that they call me a “Van Gogh-wannabe”, and I try but always in vain to explain to them that I am a van Gogh, to which the kindly people look at each other and say”,
“and look he even ‘looks’ a bit like Vincent van Gogh and the charlatan even dresses like the great artist himself. The cheek of it”
Vincent laughs as Ludwig shakes his head in what seems to be utter astonishment.
“but my dear Vincent, that’s exactly what they accuse me of being – ‘a Beethoven clone’ – alas my friend, what lesson can we learn from these bizarre happenings?”
Vincent smiles, tugging at his phantom ear,
” they barely acknowledged us as human beings during our times, my dear Ludwig, and in 2015 they accuse us of masquerading as the ‘great’ ‘genius’ ‘incomparable’ Ludwig van Beethoven and Vincent van Gogh”.
Ludwig laughs heartily and sings lines of a song Vincent thinks sounds strangely familiar…
‘… this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you…”*.
*Lyrics from Don McLean’s song “Vincent”.
12.
Vincent and Ludwig #12
“Your ‘Sunflowers’ evokes the beauty of a sublime sonata to my deaf ears, my dear Vincent”,
“Ah! but you do hear! You hear the passions that torment my soul, my dear friend Ludwig”,
“And you paint in the colours of my dreams, Vincent, where I am alone in a field of sunflowers, as the moonlight caresses each tender stem”,
“Yes, Ludwig! Just as your ‘Moonlight Sonata’ moves me to tears, the tears that you see as delicate drops of dew on the sunflowers of your dreams”,
“Sunflowers bathed in soft moonlight”, smiles Ludwig,
“Oh yes, that same canvas of night that sways to the delicate touch of your music”, Vincent says with a wink.
Ludwig smiles again, as Vincent laughs a hearty laugh.
Scribbled Verse 
This was so good. The artwork and words. Perfect and entertaining.
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Thanks my friend! Cheers.
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Cheer my friend and you are welcome.
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this was very cool thank you
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Simply wonderful!
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Superb! Heartfelt and endearing ❤
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Beautiful.
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Awesome talent you have.
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A friendship between two masters in their skill. How I would want them to be back alive again. We need Artists like those two.
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I count myself among the luckiest on earth – I’ve been to the Van Gogh Gallery in Amsterdam and somewhere, I hope, there remains a photo of a younger me standing next to his self-portrait, plus I own boxed sets of Beethoven’s symphonies, which somehow sound better (in memory at least) on the found-object speakers and garage-sale amp that made up my first stereo.
Thank you Afzal for reawakening the mystery of Vincent and Ludwig with your wonderful post.
Be well kind, dear, talented sir.
DD
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Ah, such an engaging conversation between two “greats” ,van Gogh who I particularly like. This was special for me. Thank you for this idea.
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