She takes a crayon to the backs
of envelopes, to the cardboard
from laundered shirts. She steals India
ink and black velvet for angry clowns
and the many faces of Elvis. Worked-over
images soon overflow the closets, tumble
into the hall. Stacked to the ceiling, there
is no room for light to enter, so the painter
moves over the dark stained floor like a shadow,
back and forth and back again—until she falls
out of her own frame of reference, still believing
in what the day can do.
10 comments:
Do you mean "from angry clowns"? Interesting images. I see a red door...
great write...loved the feel of this esp the painted out of her own frame of reference...
wow - loved this - loved the title and the image of painting out the own frame of reverence..fantastic
Lovely-- clearly arising from the inspirare-- the breath of inspiration-- moves like a waterfall. Brava! xxJenne'
A delight, and true encouragement for any maker. Run out of floor? Paint a door ... :) - Brendan
Thanks, everyone! I'm glad you liked the poem -- I was in a surreal kind of mood.
C
Fantastic work Cheryl!Loved the frame of reference bit.
You are two very talented sisters... I love Janet's painting on her home page.
Cheers
tumbling into the hall, stacking to the ceiling...it's super.
You have painted with words... I enjoyed it's vividity..
ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya
http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2011/02/whispers-another-kind-of-valentines-day.html
Hello, Padma, kenny, and Shashi! Thanks so much for stopping by to read and comment.it's very inspiring for the poet to have the painter as a sister, no?
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