Poet Laura: The Tapestry of Poetry

I recently visited the Met Cloisters, which is an art gallery designed in the style of medieval architecture of French monasteries and abbeys. An extension of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Cloisters houses artifacts, tapestries, paintings and other Romanesque and Gothic works of art. I’ve wanted to visit for several years, and each time I’ve made the plan, something disrupts it and I’ve had to postpone the trip. Anticipating light traffic and fewer visitors, I chose to go on a Sunday morning. My timing was finally good; I even got a parking spot right outside the entrance!

As I ventured up the stone staircase, under archways and through the various galleries, I learned right away that the term “cloisters” actually refers to the covered or open-air walkways along the walls of the building, often containing gardens in the middle of the square. This museum holds four different cloisters, each representing a style of different French monasteries. The gardens around the museum are also representative of “real and ideal” gardens of the middle ages, both plant life that has been documented as well as those envisioned in artworks and literature.

I took a leisurely stroll through the West Terrace, a rooftop garden with brick paths, trees and blooming plant life. Wild roses and poppies are some of my favorites, and the air was sweet in the sunny humidity. As I meandered to a wall at the edge of the terrace, looking out over treetops that hid the cars on 9A, I saw the Hudson River in the distance. Instantly, I flashed back to a similar sunny day I spent at Mont St. Michel, where echoes of monks and visitors through the ages filled the silence, when I was still enough to hear them.

The museum also houses the famous The Unicorn Tapestries, a mysterious collection of seven tapestries depicting scenes of the mythical creature. As I read further about the tapestries, I discovered that the exact origin of the tapestries is unknown. They are hypothesized to have been designed by the Parisians, due to the depiction of French landscapes, and were probably woven in Brussels. Styling of the tapestries give clues about their origins, although the exact symbolic representation of the panels in story is also unclear. It seems the true history of the tapestries is as elusive as the creature itself, whose horn is believed to purify water.

The creation of a story by weaving strands of wool, metallic threads and silk, dyed with colorful plant dyes, is somewhat like writing a poem, retelling a true story, creating fantasy. How art begets art! As poets and writers, we know the importance of experiencing other genres, through creative acts, through play. Many of us create in more than one domain, like poetry and photography, painting and mixed media, collaging and found poems. And, while it’s important to partake in other art to stimulate creativity for writing, it’s also necessary to give ideas time and space to simmer. After wandering the galleries and gardens and chapels, I sat in the cafe garden with a cup of coffee and pain au chocolat, ready to take notes for this very post. Nothing came to mind at that time, and I didn’t stress about it. The thoughts needed time to buffer in the background of my consciousness before they were ready for the page. So I sipped my coffee and watched the house sparrows dip in and out of greenery while hidden, mockingbirds and tufted titmouse serenaded their guests, until it was time to leave.

The drive home from the Cloisters, back over the George Washington Bridge and down the Turnpike to 78 was just as breezy as the drive there. Songs play randomly from Apple Music. I’m still in awe of the magic (algorithm) that adds perfectly curated selections after my chosen track is finished. I find myself singing along, after Whisper to a Scream by Icicle Works, to Pictures of You by the Cure, to Ghost in You by the Psychedelic Furs….you get the idea. I reminisce about the stone age days of holding a tape recorder up to the radio, missing the first and last few seconds of each song, or worse yet, being interrupted by mom coming in with an armful of laundry and wrecking the track. I became that mom, too, but tape recorders and cassettes are mostly obsolete.

***

I recently participated in an online workshop offered by Dimitri Reyes, who is an educator, poet, community-builder and friend. In April, he introduced our Zoom community to the Mixtape poem, a riff off the cento form created by  Roberto Carlos Garcia. In an interview for The Rumpus, Garcia describes its constraints:

“A mixtape resembles a cento in that it is composed of lines borrowed from other poets, but different because it includes lines from fiction, nonfiction, rap lyrics, and other forms of literature. A “mixtape” can be between fifty and a hundred lines long, and should have at least ten original lines written by the poet. The poem should also have a turn every five to ten lines or so.

For our workshop, Dimitri adapted the form to fit our 90-minute session. Each participant brought 25-50 lines of quotes to work with, then used at least five original lines to weave them together in the mixtape. I spent time this weekend finishing up the project. Do you recognize any of the lyrics? Some are probably familiar, but some may be obscure. And I used three original lines with fourteen lyrics, some spanning two lines.

I Get by With a Little Help from My Friends

The world spins madly on
although you feel stuck,
you’re moving with it, too.
Don’t let the sound of your own wheels
drive you crazy––the truth you might
be running from is so small, but it’s as big
as the promise of the coming day.
Linger in the twilight, don’t be scared
Is it an horrific dream?
I saw the crescent, you saw the whole of the moon
Is it getting better or do you feel the same?
You screamed at the make-believe, screamed at the sky,
And you finally found courage to let it all go
We dare to hold on to our fate,
And steal away our destiny
All this beauty, I might have to close my eyes
and slowly open wide
Excuse me but can I be you for a while?
I think that might feel better
It may be raining,
but there’s a rainbow above you
I’m not expecting to grow flowers in a desert
but I can live and breathe
and see the sun in wintertime.
Let somebody love you.

—Michelle Rinaldi Ortega

Photo by Niels Epting, Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Michelle Ortega. Mixtape features lyrics from: Paul McCartney & John Lennon, Andrew Fariss & Michael Hutchence (INXS), Robert Smith (The Cure), Steven Stills, Richard Curtis, Michael Curtis (CSNY), Glen Frey & Don Henley (CSN), Jackson Browne & Glen Frey, Bono, Steven Tannen & Deborah Talan (The Weepies), Stuart Adamson (Big Country), Tori Amos, Roland Orzabal & Curt Smith (Tears for Fears), Mike Scott (The Waterboys).

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Michelle Rinaldi Ortega

As a quiet child and angst-y teen, Michelle loved to read and write. When poetry found her again about fifteen years ago, the Tweetspeak community brought her multiple resources on journey, from content to courses to in-person meetups. She hosted Tweetspeak’s very first Mischief Cafe! A speech-language pathologist by day, Michelle's avocations include travel across the country and the globe, as well as digital and black and white film photography. Michelle is the author of Don't Ask Why from Seven Kitchens Press. Her microchapbook, Tissue Memory, is forthcoming from Porkbelly Press. You can find her work at www.michelleortegawrites.com and on IG @michellebelleslp.

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