YOUNG PEASANT GIRL TO THE ARTIST, JULES BRETON

(after the painting, Young Peasant Girl with Hoe, by Jules Breton)

Yes, I will sit for you—

there is more to life

than toil from first light

to setting sun.

But, draw me quick,

I have work to do.

You think I’m beautiful?

Then, work your art.

Keep me forever young

because we both know

that I will age too soon,

my face will become as

furrowed as this field,

my hands and feet,

calloused and cracked.

My body that you admire

will grow old and hunched

from this—how did you put it?—

idyllic, rustic life.

I am no fool.

Your painting of me

will hang in some salon

where your friends

and those with money

will praise the quality of your hand

while they look at mine.

But, I know

that when we both are dead

and in this ground,

it will be me that people look at,

and I will look at them from your canvas,

admired in this moment.

Ekphrastic Poem #5: Peasant Woman Digging Up Potatoes

I've started work again on my series of poems based on Van Gogh's paintings.  "Peasant Woman Digging Up Potatoes" was one of the first poems I began drafting, but has taken quite some time to bring to fruition.  I could never quite settle on what I wanted to say in the poem, so I set it aside.  I revisited it today, following the general theme found in "The Potato Eaters"-- potatoes as "earth apples" (aardappel in Dutch; pomme de terre in French), reference to the eating of the apple in Eden, mankind's fall from Paradise, etc.  A little research indicated that potatoes need to be harvested before the first frost, otherwise they might be damaged.  Thoughts of Eden and fields led to Elysian fields and Elysium, where heroes enjoyed the afterlife, engaging in the work that brought pleasure in life.  As I thought about that, however, it occurred to me that for someone who had toiled all their life in backbreaking work, Elysium might not be a wonderful place to spend one's afterlife.

And with that, here's the poem and the painting (courtesy the Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp).

PEASANT WOMAN DIGGING UP POTATOES

After Van Gogh’s painting of the same name

Row after row, bent to her task,

she digs into the waning light.

Before the fall, fields bathed

in sunlight and joy. Now,

engaged against the coming

frost, she toils to the harvest,

though each thrust of her spade

only brings her closer to Elysium.

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.

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?

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.

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.

THOUGHTS WHILE VIEWING VAN GOGH'S "FISHING BOATS ON THE BEACH AT LES SAINTES MARIES DE LA MER"

[Published in Do Not Look At The Sun, "Postcards from Paris," Issue #5 (Spring 2011]

THOUGHTS WHILE VIEWING VAN GOGH'S "FISHING BOATS ON THE BEACH AT LES SAINTES MARIES DE LA MER"


In the gallery,
alone
(although surrounded by others),
I think of you.

I wish you were here
to tell me just how much you love
the colors of the boats on the shore,
their rich reds and greens and blues,
and why you sense sadness in the painting.

Tell me,
would you be on one of the boats sailing away?
Or, would you be standing with me on the shore?