A house finch, staring at me in wonder, as if he is thinking: "Are you serious? We're really getting another Nor'easter?"


My photo
Current: Danbury, CT, United States
Welcome! A few years ago, I discovered an application that artists employ in their works to bring cultural awareness to their audiences. Having discerned this semiotic theory that applies to literature, music, art, film, and the media, I have devoted the blog, "Theory of Iconic Realism" to explore this theory. The link to the publisher of my book is below. If you or your university would like a copy of this book for your library or if you would like to review it for a scholarly journal, please contact the Edwin Mellen Press at the link listed below. Looking forward to hearing from you!

23 March, 2018



The Bluebell is a flower,
symbolizing Constancy and Helpfulness.
And I see bluebells lining the path
of a kind spirit traveling through this life
in the body of a noble person.

To this spirited traveler, 
dynamic coalescing of meditation and action
form the foundation of relevance.
Steadiness, calm, and a quick smile,
follow echoes of hearty laughs and wit.

Bluebells dance at the feet 
of this gentle, jovial spirit.
A vibrant energy and fragrance,
ever present in the serenity,
constant and helpful.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

22 March, 2018

God's Peace

In this era of turbulence, it's time to sail away from the chaos. I choose peace... Peace with God. 
From this point, I am confident that He will move my heart in the direction of Infinite Love. Join me? 

May the Almighty's eternal Blessings be with you all.  

20 March, 2018

Ode to Skunk Cabbage

Today is the first day of Spring,  I just had to submit this little ode to one of the harbingers of Spring, the Skunk Cabbage, as an illustration of the connection between artist and nature. Unfortunately, we're expecting a fourth Nor'easter by Wednesday...5-9 inches of snow and blustery conditions. Oh well....soon it will be Spring...

photo of skunk cabbage from Google Images
Ode to Skunk Cabbage
Bursting forth from its ruddy milieu,      
it erects from its hooded spathe.
This courageous prophet boldly faces
the chilly air with unique confidence, 
guided by a mighty force.
Radiating silently, as if to say,
“Come to me, for I offer
the nourishment you need now,”
his sweetness within calls upon
the daring creature to receive its warmth.
And she responds, and she comes:
the beetle, the spider, the queen bee,
warmed by the generosity 
of Spring’s first.
Odoriferous, proud, protective,
he inspires the fragrant flora
to engender beauty.
Now, Spring has arrived
with the burgeoning
of the exceptional skunk cabbage.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

17 March, 2018

Revolutionary Thought Begins with Creative Emergence

'Equality Emerging' National University of Ireland, Galway, photo taken by me.

A revolutionary idea begins with a creative notion. In John Locke’s An Essay on Human Understanding, he states:
Wherever there is sense or perception, there some idea is, actually produced, and present in the understanding…we [have], as has been proved, no ideas at all, but what originally come either from sensible objects without, or what we feel within ourselves, from the inward workings of our own spirits, of which we are conscious to ourselves within. 

Below, is a poem I wrote a while ago to illustrate a similar consciousness that involves an appreciation of that which inspires:

A Creation   
With every minute
the mighty sculptor
molds, shapes me
into that which will
inevitably become
the fulfillment
of my dreams.
A Promise.
And I feel
the designated pliancy
of wondrous hands,
the angst
of sorrow and pain
into sculpted reality
of laughter and joy,
I, the loving creation
of an almighty Artist.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

15 March, 2018

The Song - An Amhran

Below, I've posted a small poem that I wrote having taken a few Irish Gaeilge classes. I'm still not sure if the grammar is correct, but I think you'll get the idea anyway. I took the photograph just as I was leaving a conference at NUI Galway. I didn't know just how gorgeous the beach was until I was on my way out of town and passed this view heading out on my way to Sligo. 

I took this photo of Galway Beach, Ireland

The Song                                          An Amhran

On the wind, the song sails              Ar na gaoth, an amhran ag sceoladh 
to another who will hear                   do an eile an té cloistrail
the sweet language that blesses.       an teanga binn ag beannú.
Gathering the creed of beauty,         Ag bailigh an creid d' álainn,
the song is forever,                           ta se an amhran go deo, 
sweet and praising.                           milis agus ag moladh.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos                          © Á Siobhán I. Glasadóir

08 March, 2018

Fractal Force

A few years ago, another blogger gave our poetry group a line prompt to use for our weekly poetry read. The line was as follows: "I am a crooked line." Well, the first thought that came to my mind was FRACTALS! To view more fractals and listen to some ambient music, click HERE.

Photo from Bing Images

Fractal Force
I am a crooked line.
My course
parallels spirit
weaves between
giving and receiving
on the humble fringe of

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

27 February, 2018

Enough of an Artist... Thank you, Albert Einstein

When I was participating in the Poetry Bus poetry workshops, one of the members asked us to follow these directives: 
1:  Think of (or find) a sentence. 
2: Delete the second half of it. 
3: Think of as many different ways of finishing it was you can. 
4: Now, delete the first part of the sentence, leaving only a collection of "second halves". 
5: Play with these and concoct a poem out of them. You'll probably want to mess about with   the grammar, leave bits out, put bits in, etc. Feel free. 
6: Post the poem.

I used a quote from Albert Einstein after having returned from Dublin, Ireland and Reims, France. Below is the jet-lagged concoction.

Photo of my window's view in Reims, France

I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. ~ Albert Einstein

I am Enough of an Artist...

To make my way through this airport
and appreciate the artistry
in each human utterance and smile
creative impulses within,
felt without

To hear music
in the laughter of children,
the voice of God
in the knowing timbre
of an elderly sigh

To feel this train race pass French villes,
A phantasmagoria of anxious yearning
in the muted colors of graffiti 
blended with determined drops 
of spring rain

To enter a darkened hallway,
and know that the painful hole
bitten into my lip from fear
will heal, 
bleeding into fortitude

So, I taste the blended harvest
in a bowl of vegetable soup
and ready myself for another day
with cherished goodness
of a night’s rest
upon clean, white sheets.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos