How to Catch a Day: Think. Write. Repeat.
There is open space, a window
Never many people. Only the
lines converge towards
perspective. The true meaning
is the artist’s reserved space.
Do not intrude.
Continuing this month of October with a tour of master paintings, and using them as writing prompts for poetry. A complete explanation of Ekphrastic poetry starts here with the talented Instructor John Brantingham, a local English professor. Join me!
Odysseus blinding the Cyclops Polyphemus. Late geometric vase dating to 670 BCE. Earliest depiction of Odysseus and thought to be a burial urn for a young child.
Sleep, sleep this longest of the nights
I’ve tucked and folded your bedding tight.
After tomorrow’s pyre, what shall I fix?
Ashes, then dust, swept in a clay cradle,
A lonesome journey down the river Styx
respite from pain and Life’s betrayal.
I wonder, how will I know that you’re safe?
Odysseus used his wily spear for fight,
our bedtime hero, but you, my small waif?
I only have this urn for your body, so slight.
There was no escaping fate under lamb’s wool.
No happy way to kill the stupid giant
I drew him here, with a rhino, and a bull.
So I’m with you always, strong and defiant.
I will burn incense and send my prayer
to your gray world without disease and fears.
Although I may laugh to battle my despair
inwardly, I’ll be counting down my years.
Sleep, my child, sleep this longest of the nights
I’ve tucked and folded your bedding tight.
Continuing this month of October with a tour of master paintings, and using them as writing prompts for poetry. A complete explanation of Ekphrastic poetry starts here with the talented Instructor John Brantingham, a local English professor. Write poetry, or read it!
Don’t you know how to iron?
My mother taught me
the British way, pressing
the crispness of a first appearance
on the edges of shirt cuffs
My Canadian granny would lift
country-air starch straight off the line
A Frenchman demonstrated
the naughtiest of tricks, pressing
fashion into parts seen while leaving
a haberdashery of rumples underneath
My mother-in-law instructed me
the German way, putzing
housewifely duty into the fibers
of every cotton product in the house
I am studied and fluent
in the many languages of ironing
My American self makes laundry
permapress easy and wrinkle free
Do you understand now, Husband,
the many ways to explore and press a culture
into the fine white collar of your workshirts?
the line is set without bait
so jump into this world
follow my scaling curves
of water foam and wave
spring from muddy eddies
outline the boulders and the brook
wood cut straight and thick
along bark and pine-needle
layering the granite heights
with vertigo and strata
leading the way and the path
from earth into the heavens
A painter translates Daedalus onto canvas
Drawing the inventor as a field hand who plows
uneven furrows that match the folds of his clothing
A tunic that should be long, flowing and Greek
boats in the background that should be pointed, narrow and sleek
* * *
Bruegel’s painting was medieval, staid and woolen
it captured a day the father remembered forever
the oddly green brightness of the sun as it
reflected upwards into an expansive sky
shining with cheerful possibilities as his child
Icarus slid into the sea with a splash, and died
My parents dragged me through huge museums in every country they visited and the privilege was completely lost on me. However, this month of October I am thoroughly enjoying a tour of old and new master paintings, and using them as writing prompts for poetry. It is good fun. A complete explanation of Ekphrastic poetry starts here with the talented Instructor John Brantingham, a local English professor. Join me!
