Writing poetry from art ignites creativity and helps you become a better writer. Join Maureen Doallas in this Image-ine exercise based on “Bedsheet, ” a painting by Lisa Hess Hesselgrave.
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Apprentice
Every boy should know how
to do a veronica, fix one knee
in front of the other, and bend
the spine to sounds of Ole! Ole!,
sure two-handed maneuvering
of the makeshift cape bringing
fully imagined bull to its lancer.
A particular flick of the wrists
takes practice to pose, each pass
low to keep the beast’s head down.
Some days it’s science, some art,
bull and boy both brought to kneel.
Who protests the positioning too
soon for the kill is lost in the last
swirls of magenta. Beyond the ring
feet fly; a clean white handkerchief
waves and waves. A mother waits
to press cloth to son’s bleeding face.
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Write a poem of your own based on Lisa’s image “Bedsheet” or choose a line from Maureen’s poem as a starting place. Post on your blog and link to us (we love that), or just drop your poems here in the comment box.
This is the first of a series of Image-ine posts based on Lisa Hess Hesselgrave‘s paintings.
See the first Image-ine Poetry post in this series.
See the second Image-ine Poetry post in this series.
See the third Image-ine Poetry post in this series.
See the fourth Image-ine Poetry post in this series.
Painting: “Bedsheet” (oil on canvas) by Lisa Hess Hesselgrave. Used with permission. Poem by Maureen Doallas, author of Neruda’s Memoirs: Poems.
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Maureen Doallas says
Lisa’s paintings are wonderful narratives; they can go in so many directions. I’ve enjoyed so much using them as inspiration.
Thank you for introducing her work to me.
Scott Edward Anderson says
How wonderful you’ve discovered Lisa’s work! Her paintings are magical narratives, poetry in their own right, and perfect for your project. We were at the Millay Colony together in 2002, where she did the painting I used yo illustrate an early poem of mine in this post: http://seapoetry.wordpress.com/2011/11/19/juvenilia-snow-sleeping-november/
Looking forward to the rest of your series!
Maureen Doallas says
How wonderful to have Lisa’s work in your personal collection, Scott. Lovely piece that inspired your poem. (Thank you for sharing it.) She’s a real find! And I thank L.L. again for introducing us virtually.
I agree with your use of the word “magical” . For some of the paintings I selected, I’d add the words “edgy” and “dark”; that combination drew me in. Her work creeps up on the viewer, and suddenly I hear the word “Surprise!”
Kathryn Dyche Dechairo says
Love how inspired that poem was . . .
Maureen Doallas says
Thank you, Kathryn. I hope you’ll join us in making poems with the prompt
.
Richard Maxson says
You Know This Story
— For Janet
In the story I tell that begins with you,
there is a dark hallway with chairs,
and the solid beams of flashlights,
like brilliant roads leading
to your laughing face.
To the casual reader,
dark hallways are scary,
but then this is the flashlight’s
adult end, with sharp edges like,
why would I write such a thing?
Where you are, the light is soft
and wide, in a forest of chair legs,
a sky of bed sheets, as far away
as I can see from the here and now.
What is now would have been mysterious,
like a journey to a foreign land,
you in the light of children,
so far from make believe, doing work
you would not have imagined.
Sometimes there is a small door
in the distance of a memory,
a slice through the riddle of time.
There waits a sound, a thought,
a secret to be kept beyond reason.
You know this story:
Mount Airy, where the Willys stopped,
half way to Florida; we swam
until our teeth chattered, in the frail air,
the lavender shoulders in the distance,
enduring the ages of the vaulted stars;
you must remember, the water was so warm.
Even after we were gone, the water,
unnoticed from the here and now,
continues gathering the day’s warmth
and each night holds it until morning,
for the someday we might return.
Maureen Doallas says
There’s lovely movement of memory in this, Richard, and some wonderful lines: “a forest of chair legs / a sky of bedsheets”; “the lavender shoulders”; and, my favorite, “you in the light of children”.
Thank you!
annell says
Enjoyed the post!
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Wildly imaginative. I think I held my breath while I moved through the lines of this very very fine poem. I am crazy about this series. So excited to see and hear what’s to come.
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Folds Of The Soul
No, you are never ever alone
Even at the break of dawn
Even when no lights are on
Especially when you are wild at play
With, let’s say, your imaginary vessel
One dreamed and schemed to build
The one in which you’ll
Sail away, escape
Within a land of solitary play
Alone is always simply okay
No one will tell you what to say
Or how to script your wild and child-like ways
No, you are never alone
Even though you are a solitary soul
Taking up all the space in a rather crowded room
Filled with imaginings found amid the dark and gloom
Even if you have but one stark tool with which to build
A story
Once upon a time the bed sheet became a sail
And away he went to the land
Of childhood delight
Where a friend was found for him
Who previously had not one
Pulled from the folds of his very soul
Captured on the wings of wild and wooly
Play
And a technicolored
Imagination to save the day.
Rosanne Osborne says
Annum Sacrum
Twelvemonth burns
to begin,
estrus riding
the spokes
relentlessly rotating
the dreams
buried in burdened
ash.
L. L. Barkat says
so pleased to see you here, Rosanne. Love the poem 🙂