Welcome to a Poetry blog designed to show some appreciation to the art and provide exposure to some underrated talent. Follow to support!
To continue this week's exhibitions, we have another powerful poem created by a little known artist who uses Instagram to share some moving verse; beautiful and outrageously sad at times.
Peering into the oval window,
My cracked completion mirroring
The glass shards - bound so loosely;
As a luminous mosaic ghost haunts me.
His hands pull at the rotting carcass.
Crimson brings life to the ceramic.
Daggers poke from His bare knuckles,
But no fighting spirit prevails here.
Ah! The rotten oak masterpiece appears:
Triumphant. The wraith is no more.
The bold search has strangely gifted
Me a bare set of planks and nails...
Life's fruitful irony and a promising coffin.
The speaker is describing internal conflict representing itself on the mirror surface, with the flurry of emotions on display using colourful, descriptive imagery. Let's hear what the poet has to say for themselves.
So, as a disclaimer, I have been wary of sharing my art amidst the recent atrocities plaguing the world. Like the novel COVID-19, the murder of George Floyd on May 25 2020 is not an isolated occurrence. It is an abhorrent mutation of a pre-existing heavily embedded and institutionalised virus: racism. That is all I will remark on that matter for the time being as I (a) would like to keep this account for poetry purposes only (b) this artwork is not inspired or correlated by the event. Nevertheless, I hope you appreciate the words and connect with the piece.
Moving on to dissecting this poem. As I am finding to be a consistent theme in my voice, my poetry seeks to be philosophically ground and a means of self reflection. The image I attempt to describe is of a smashed glass window attached to a rotting window frame hanging over a ceramic sink. This is all to present my theme which is an amalgamation of an idea and my critical opinion.
The core idea is self-reflection by introspection; exacerbated by the quarantine situation and other life occurrences. The opinion? Well I shall leave you to debate its authenticity. However, I hold that sometimes what you see is simply what you get. The curious process of digging may leave you with something far more unpleasant and not fruitful to your personal growth and progress.
I tried my best to structure the poem to around 8 syllables per line with varying degrees of success. In the end, I edited by playing the poem by ear to see what suited it. The first stanza begins with setting the scene in as succinct a fashion as possible. The second builds up the struggling and, purposely, dissociated image of painfully examining oneself as a foreign observer. The penultimate stanza concludes in a contradictory conclusion; initially filled with excitement at finding the "end" before confusion with the fruits of this laborious task. The final remark, which I am now seemingly incorporating as a stylistic trademark, attempts to resolve the conflict. You can judge its success.
All content in this blog has been used with permission of the artist.
Overall wackywriter rating:
Powerful, moving, and at times, delightfully confusing.