Monday, January 28, 2013

Ekphrastic Poem #4: COME AWAY WITH ME, IF ONLY IN OUR DREAMS

This next installment in the Van Gogh-inspired poems is, I must admit, not entirely of the ekphrastic genre.  That is, the general idea for the poem and a few of the lines (including the one that forms the title) came to me prior to jumping into in my ekphrastic project.  On the other hand, the poem came to fruition based on Van Gogh's "Garden with courting couples:  Square Saint Pierre." So, I'm calling it ekphrastic.

(If you happen to be a syllable counter like me, especially with poems of this sort, you'll note that I am not consistent. Most of the lines have nine syllables, but the first has eleven, others eight, and one line has nine or ten, depending on how you pronounce "hours." Love is not bound by form and structure, why should the poem? I think there is a certain rhythm, though.)


COME AWAY WITH ME, IF ONLY IN OUR DREAMS


Come away with me, if only in our dreams,
to a place where reason has no sway,
where love and passion reign supreme,
and pleasure rules throughout the day.

Come walk with me in the summer sun,
through verdant meadows bright with flowers
to a place where we can be as one,
and lose ourselves in rapturous hours,
our bodies wrapped in love’s embrace,
and in each other find sweet grace.

Saturday, January 26, 2013

THE GARDEN OF ST. PAUL'S HOSPITAL

Next installment in my poems based on Van Gogh's paintings. This one, for the moment, is just a study of "The Garden of St. Paul's Hospital." When I was in the Van Gogh Museum, I wrote the following note: "Garden of St. Paul’s Hospital: ... Van Gogh admitted himself for psychiatric treatment. The dominant use of red and black was seen by Van Gogh as an indicator of his torment. The heavy paints, thicker and larger than his pointillist stylings, creates a heaviness to the painting. The trees seem twisted, evoking his soul. Heavy, wavy lines give a sense of wind blowing, but also the upturned strokes make them look as if on fire. Two people walk along a blue stone path, away from the artist and the viewer, leaving us isolated and alone."

Van Gogh's painting can be found here.


THE GARDEN OF ST. PAUL'S HOSPITAL

All I see is red,
the ground covered with embers,
the brick wall that embraces.

The trees are on fire,
they wave in the heat
that fans upward from the ground.

I am happy in the warmth.

Why can no one else see this?


Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Fortunes 2013-- two new lines added

I added two new lines to Fortunes 2013.  I'm cynical enough to question whether the first new line is true, or has any chance in being true-- although I suppose it depends on how one defines "wealthy."  The second new line is definitely true, and would be even truer if modesty was added to the list of traits.  Yeah, right.

THE POTATO EATERS

Note (July 27, 2013):  A revised version of this poem was published in the Free State Review, Summer 2013 issue.

When I visited the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam in 2010, I thought I might write a series of poems based on his paintings.  Although I made notes of my thoughts and impressions, I never made an earnest attempt to start the project (with the exception of my poem based around "The Fishing Boats at Saintes Maries de la Mer").  Recent blog posts by Author Amok on ekphrastic poems provided the encouragement to start up the project.  The first poem in this project is inspired by Van Gogh's "The Potato Eaters."  You can find the painting on the Van Gogh Museum's site.


THE POTATO EATERS


In the dim light of our lamp
we gather for our evening meal,
the steaming plate before us.
Apples from the Earth, they are called.
Adam and Eve's gift, I say--
we did not dig in Paradise.

Father serves out our portions.
Mother pours the strong, dark tea.
We eat our simple meal,
the day's labors lifted from our backs.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

COYOTE SKY


by G.B. Romo


Coyote sky
sun sets red
moon howls
on sagebrush plains
Coyote moves
in peyote light
we are the stars
the dust of ages
streaming
across the blackened sky
a universe of madness
matter
anti-matter
mad as a hatter.

Coyote howls
at peyote moon.
I am dust of the universe.



Geetz Beauregard Romo was the creation of a few young, imaginative minds at Laurel High School in Laurel, Maryland, sometime in 1979-1980.  Geetz now lives and writes in the West Texas desert, somewhere near Terlingua.

SUTRAS TO THE DHARMA MOON: Poems Published in Three Line Poetry

Scattered through previous blog posts are various poems I've published in Three Line Poetry over the past two years.  I also don't think I've been diligent about posting all of them on this site.  So, I decided to compile all of my poems that have appeared in Three Line Poetry, under my name, as well as those published under the names G.B. Romo and Petra Michael.  G.B. Romo is Geetz Beauregard Romo, the imaginary character a few friends of mine and I created in high school.  Geetz was the ultimate ladies man, bon vivant, socially adept, preppie, granola-eating, Perrier-drinking, Ivy League-destined-- you name it, Geetz was it... and basically everything we weren't (okay, I admit to eating granola bars, drinking Perrier, and turning up the collars of my polo shirts).  I revived Geetz a couple years ago, created a facebook page for him, and gave him a new outlook on life.  He made his fortune, dropped off the grid, and returned to his father's West Texas ranch, just as he said he would in his yearbook entry.  He's written a few poems, mostly Zen-Surrealist-Beat sorts of things, inspired by the desert around Terlingua, Texas.  (Perhaps I was in a Fernando Pessoa sort of mood.)  I'll post Geetz's other poems.

Petra Michael is the pen name that I attached to the one three line poem that Petra Noble and I wrote.  It started as lines in e-mails one morning (afternoon for her since she is in Munich).  They just happened to flow into a nice three line poem, which was accepted.

The title of the collection is taken from a line in one of the poems written as G.B. Romo. 


Sutras to the Dharma Moon: Poems Published in Three Line Poetry.


So long had it been
since I held a spring blossom—
I had forgotten.

I sit on the pier;
the river flows slowly past.
So much like my life.

Mourning dove, do you notice me
as you alight upon the patio?
I wonder, who is in whose space?

Ten thousand blossoms
have bloomed and fallen again.
Will we ever walk among the cherry trees?

She turned and kissed me softly.
I could not force my mind
to remain within the dream.

It is enough to sit
and watch yesterday’s rain
drop from the leaves of trees.

Dead roses lie on the table,
still bundled as they came from the store.
For want of water, they withered.

Winter walk in woods—
cold wind rattling through beech leaves
brings warmth to my mind.

The dentist drills and roots,
and all I can think of
are Amsterdam and Venice.

Sunburnt and salt-scrubbed;
wonderful days in the sun;
memories left in the sand.

The river flows past, as it does each day.
Listen, though, as waves lap on shore—
each one is unique.


Published as G.B. Romo:

Thorns surround my agave heart;
spirit and knowledge rest within;
one hundred years to flower.

Life is a horned toad resting in the shadow
of a rock, away from the blistering sun,
and the owl waiting at night.

In the desert night,
the moon stalks the dark side
of my mind.

Forty nights in the desert
howling sutras to the dharma moon.
Her fullness brings me life.


Published as Petra Michael (written with Petra Noble):

Fight on the U-Bahn.
A quiet ride home derailed.
My heart is beating.

Monday, January 21, 2013

Poems, Postcards, and Paintings. Or, ekphrastic adventures in the mailstream.

I am so pleased to be a guest blogger on Laura Shovan's blog, Author Amok. Laura is a Maryland poet, educator, and editor of the Little Patuxent Review. She's part way through a postcard poem project in which she is writing poems based on the image and words on 44 postcards. It's a great project, one in which I (and I'm sure other readers) can tell that she's having a lot of fun.

One reader commented last week that she should mail her postcards to various locations. I responded that the journal Do Not Look At The Sun had done just that with its Spring 2011 issue, "Postcards from Paris," and I provided the url. Laura found my poem "Thoughts While Viewing Van Gogh's 'Fishing Boats on the Beach at Les Saintes Maries de la Mer,'" liked it, and asked if I would be a guest blogger on her site.

The poem ties in with her project in a couple ways. The "Postcards from Paris" theme of the journal issue fits nicely with her postcard project. My poem, though, was not written with postcards in mind. Rather, it describes my engagement with Van Gogh's painting, which is one of my friend Petra's favorites. The engagement takes the speaker in the poem from viewing the painting in the gallery to imagining himself and the person to whom he's speaking in the painting. That's the ekphrastic tie-in, which Laura has written about on her blog.

My day in the Van Gogh Museum was the beginning of what I had planned to be a project in which I wrote poems based on his paintings. I still have my notes from the hours spent in the gallery. Time to dust them off and set sail on an ekphrastic adventure.

Many thanks to Laura for the opportunity to guest blog, for sharing her postcard project with all of us, and for the inspiration to re-engage with Van Gogh's paintings.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Number 1 Patchin Place... Revised

I am posting a much revised version of "Number 1 Patchin Place." The previous version suffered under the weight of facts and references in an attempt to reclaim the memory of John Reed.  It was just too much.  The poem is about the fact that we've forgotten who Reed was and for what he stood. We remember the literary figures who lived on Patchin Place (I focus only on Cummings, but Dreiser and other writers also lived there), but as a society we have have buried the memory of Reed and his fellow Reds.  We have no words for them.

NUMBER 1 PATCHIN PLACE


There is no sign or plaque hanging by the door
of this Greenwich Village house—
nothing to tell us who once lived here,
unlike the plaque at Number 4,
where E.E. Cummings lived.

In this house, John Reed lived
and wrote about a world without chains,
about those who shook the world
to overthrow the tyranny of capital.
He wrote of revolution in Russia,
where he saw the workers rise,
and the revolutions he hoped
would rise around the world,
even in America.
But those were just words—
words in books and speeches,
words noted by the government men
who filled files with the sedition
that flowed from this house.

Across the street at Number 4,
years after Reed was dead
and buried in the Kremlin Wall,
Cummings wrote of Russia,
of disappointment and despair.
The hope that flowed from Number 1
was jailed, starved, exiled,
investigated, questioned, blacklisted,
then swept into the dustbin of history.

We remember Cummings,
the anarchy of his words and lines
overthrowing the tyranny of form,
offending only grammarians
who would keep the language in chains.
But at Number 1 Patchin Place,
no words to remember Reed.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

TO KANSAS

Posting a slightly revised version of my poem "To Kansas." I drafted this quite some time ago, probably after reading an article about members of the right-wing fundamentalist members of the Westboro Baptist Church (of Topeka, KS) and one of their hateful protests. They were just in Annapolis recently to protest Marylanders' approval of same-sex marriage. I didn't make it to the counter-protest, but it got me thinking about revising this poem, which in part remembers a time when Kansas was progressive.



TO KANSAS

O Kansas! You were once
a beacon of freedom
in the heart of the nation.
You made the slave masters quake with rage and fear.
What are you now?
Homeland of reactionaries;
those who would deny freedom;
those who would close the books to truth,
shout down individuality,
and suppress free thought,
just like the slave masters against whom
our pioneer fathers fought.

Sons and daughters of Kansas,
sons of John Brown and of Lawrence,
daughters of Free Soilers and Jayhawkers,
heirs of the abolitionist spirit—
to all Progressives with roots in the rich Kansas soil:
Take back Kansas!
Take back Kansas!

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

FORTUNES 2013

Each line contains the fortune contained within a fortune cookie, added as I, or others who contribute, open a cookie and obtain the fortune inside. I plan to add to the list over the course of the year. Will it be a list of random fortunes? Or, will there be some sense of pattern and order?

I did this back in 2010 (see "Fortunes 2010" below) and thought it was time to go through the exercise again.  And, I'll have to say that the first one of the year was a very propitious way to start.


Your present plans are going to succeed.
You like participating in competitive sports.

Avert misunderstanding by calm, poise and balance.
You like participating in competitive sports.

You will inherit some money or a small piece of land.
You will have good luck and overcome many hardships.

You are kind and friendly.
You are one of the people who "goes places in life."

You will have good luck and overcome many hardships.
Avert misunderstanding by calm, poise and balance.

Nature, time and patience are the three great physicians.
You will pass a difficult test that will make you happier.

Work hard and you will become more wealthy.
You display the wonderful traits of charm and courtesy.

Struggle as hard as you can for whatever you believe in.
Avert misunderstanding by calm, poise and balance.

Confucius says:  lovers in triangle not on square.
You are generous to an extreme and always think of the other fellow.

You are generous to an extreme and always think of the other fellow.
A handful of patience is worth more than a bushel of brains.

The will of the people is the best law.
You are careful and systematic in your business arrangements.

Your heart is pure, and your mind clear, and soul devout.
You are an exciting and inspiring person.

The will of the people is the best law.
Share your joys and sorrows with your family.

A wise man knows everything; a shrewd one, everybody.
You are demonstrative with those you love.

Maybe you can live on the moon in the next century.
Good things are coming to you in due course of time.

You will be traveling and coming into a fortune.
Your talents will be recognized and suitably rewarded.

You are a bundle of energy, always on the go.
You will have good luck and overcome many hardships.

You will have good luck and overcome many hardships.
Maybe you can live on the moon next century.

Maybe you can live on the moon next century.
A thrilling time is in your immediate future.

A thrilling time is in your immediate future.
You are never selfish with your advice or your help.

You are never selfish with your advice or your help.
You are never bitter, deceptive, or petty.

Work hard and you will become more wealthy.
You have a deep interest in all that is artistic.

A wise man knows everything; a shrewd one, everybody.
A wise man knows everything; a shrewd one, everybody.

The time is right to make new friends.
The time is right to make new friends.

The time is right to make new friends.
The time is right to make new friends.

Your principles mean more to you than any money or success.
A wise man knows everything; a shrewd one, everybody.

If you continually give, you continually have.
Society prepares the crime; the criminal commits it.

You are careful and systematic in your business arrangements.
Your principles mean more to you than any money or success.

Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think.
A liar is not believed even though he tells the truth.

Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think.
Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think.

Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think.
Someone is speaking well of you.

Watch your relations with other people carefully, be reserved.
You have a keen mind and an active imagination.

You have a keen mind and an active imagination.
You have an active mind and a keen imagination.

Accept the next proposition you hear.
You have an active mind and a keen imagination.

Good news will come to you from far away.
Good news will come to you from far away.

You will always have good luck in your personal affairs.
Your talents will be recognized and suitably rewarded.

Your happiness is intertwined with your outlook on life.
Strong and bitter words indicate a weak cause.

Practice makes perfect.
You have a friendly heart and are well admired.

You will step on the soil of many countries.
Every man is a volume if you know how to read him.

You will be successful in everything.
You will be successful in everything.

You will be successful in everything.
The physician heals, nature makes well.

You always bring others happiness.
There is a prospect of a thrilling time ahead of you.

Society prepares the crime; the criminal commits it.
You will have a pleasant trip.

You will have a pleasant trip.
You are tasting the sweets of success.

You will inherit a large sum of money.
You will inherit a large sum of money.

Your mentality is alert, practical and analytical.
You are strong and brave.

Time is the wisest counselor.
A carrot a day may keep cancer away.

You are a practical person with your feet on the ground.
You are talented in many ways.

You like participating in competitive sports.
A surprise treat awaits you.

Good fortune is always on your side.
Drink to your health.

You will have a party.
A healthy body will benefit you forever.

A healthy body will benefit you forever.
Nature, time, and patience are the three great physicians.

You will make many changes before settling satisfactorily.
Working hard will make you live a happy life.