Wednesday, January 22, 2014

A Machine They Call Pauline

This week we wrote ekphrastic poetry.  I love writing off of paintings, but some how life sucked me up and spit me out this week.  So, here is my draft, a little late, but inspired by my friend's visit to the David Hockney exhibit in the Bay Area, my longing for a swim, and my terribly inability to park my car correctly (which I always blame on seeing things too much in refractions).  Oh, and there is a little shout out to one of my favorite poems by Gertrude Stein (from Bee Time Vine). Hope it makes some sense!
A Machine They Call Pauline
after David Hockney’s “Green Pool with Diving Board and Shadow”
Blue shimmering shadows like luminous
cobwebs              I float between what’s above (light)
and what’s under (weight).  Nothing looks the same

under water nothing sounds the same under water
In the on land exercise we are asked
to leave the busy bee hives of our minds
Be wholly in your body she screamed  her
bare feet heavy on the hard wood floor
under water nothing sounds the same under water
Hive explodes into the honey of thought
follow a black line long enough and you’ll
find a fold into another life gone
cooler, mind gone hollow as a rung bell.

under water nothing is the same under water

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