Obituaries (revised)

obituaries s

the language of gone–
a call without a response,
so loud it can’t be

heard—a silence entombed in
itself—on the other side

My poem “Obituaries”, is one of the responses to Joaquin Torres Garcia’s painting, “Pintura” (below), posted on The Ekphrastic Review today.  The three poems on this post were composed from parts of it.

Picture

Frank at dVerse challenged us to write some 5-line Japanese form poems.  I must confess that I like the 5-7-5-7-7 form of the tanka, now considered by purists to be false.  Whatever you call it, I still think it works well as a way to focus thought and express feelings.

the language of absence
language of gone
the before of never
silence entombed
the language of death

obituaries close up 1s

The new definitions for writing tanka and haiku confuse me, and I have no idea how to write something that will satisfy the powers that be, although I keep writing 3 and 5-line poems.  And although I recognize a well-written gogyohka, and understand the single line-single breath idea, I have difficulty naming anything I’ve written with that label as well.

language
forbidden
remains
a response
of absence

obituaries close up 2a

But and so…in my continued pruning mode, I’ve taken the posted poem (which was itself severely pruned several times) and turned it into three 5-line poems.  Hopefully they fit the dVerse prompt in some manner.

My thanks to editor Lorette C. Luzajic for once again featuring my work.  You can see my poem “Obituaries”–the original from which these 5-line poems were taken–and read all the other responses as well, here.

rebirthing

rebirthing s

falling down
like water–
to begin again,
cross over–

like water
waiting to be
crossed over,
awakening.

waiting to be
encircled,
awakening,
drowning in flowers,

encircled
in dreams,
drowning in flowers–
fix the bridge–

in dreams
we begin again–
fix the bridge
falling down

rebirthing close up 2 s

De provided the word “fix” for our quadrille prompt at dVerse.

rebirthing close up s

I wanted to see if I could do a pantoum in just 44 words.

Headline Haiku: Metropolis

metropolis s

Inspired by Phil Gomm’s “Metropolis” prompt, I’ve revived Headline Haiku for a New York pandemic collage.  I originally did a series of these current event newspaper artworks on methodtwomadness, the blog I do with Nina (who is on an extended break), but I haven’t done one in a long time.

shutdown s

It also fits my current supply situation–most everything I own is in storage, and I do not have many collage materials in my temporary apartment.  But I do get the NY Times delivered, and I cut them up for what I’m working on as needed.

stopped s

I took two of the obituary pages from last Sunday’s paper and collaged it with images and headline haiku collected from the last month’s papers.

body bags s(read the story accompanying this headline here)

My city is hurting.  It’s uncertain when anything will return and what form it will take.

essential s

But the lifeblood of the city is its people, and something will always grow and thrive among them.

remixed s

I spent my childhood in Ohio and Maryland but I never put roots down in either place.  NYC is my hometown.  And aside from one apartment, I’ve always lived and worked either on, or within walking distance, of Broadway.

For the last 10 years, I’ve been able to walk to Yankee Stadium from my residences…and many’s the time I’ve started home to the accompaniment of Frank Sinatra after a game.

New York has been a city of immigrants for its entire existence.  And it will continue to draw strength from its diversity as it comes back to life.

New York, New York…a metropolis in which to imagine a new world.

 

 

 

Minus the Princess

minus the princess s

Black Beauty
leaves behind a trail
of tears, a
synthesis
of dazzling blue fire and the
mad Czar’s purple sword

Tender and
true, Aurora laughs,
dances in
the golden
acres, wandering among
old Jacob’s cattle

The Purple
Queen calls on Jack Ice
to render
wizardly
mutations—lazy housewife
into Reine des Glaces

minus the princess close up s

A bit of fun using the seed names suggested by Sarah at dVerse in a shadorma chain for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday with synonyms for harmony and transition.  Perfect words for a garden!

I consider windows and boxes

windows and boxes s

I look for keys to unlock what is
lost—searching inside every box—in
every container, in every drawer–

I can’t keep up all these disguises–
lifetimes hidden in vessels of dust,
threadbare remnants of secrets, lead veils–

Each day a new weight–still hauling them
around—I don’t know where they begin,
end, what existence lies underneath–

Time is not what it pretends to be–
the doors are locked, but I can open
every window, tear down the curtains–

Unchecked, the outside pours itself in,
displacing the insides–spilling out

Picture

My poem for the Vermeer writing challenge at the Exphrastic Review (“Woman Holding a Balance”, above) was rejected, but I’ve revised it down to 14 lines for Frank’s poetic prompt at dVerse.

windows and boxes close up s

My collage response to Vermeer is a work in progress, but I think this new, shorter, poem is more suited to both the original and what I’ve done so far.  Thanks Frank!