Poem-A-Day #130 : Boxed Storm

This was written 16 years ago today. I think my intent was to talk about the self as a sort of container for our swirling emotions and egos. I've decided that it's also clearly a mirror...

Original :

Boxed Storm (7/8/00)

Solid white vision
of a black box
polished crimson
in a purple light

Seamless edge
blue stone inlay
a rose or lilly

Reflection of self
imposed on the surface

Cold to touch
inside glowing white
water


Edit :

Boxed Storm

There are eyes here
they imagine themselves on the surface of a great box

Cold to the touch
the seams are red with welding the interior a blur of noise

We could call this a real thing
that it represents a soul or some intangible self

The face reflected on it
It is mine and yours and ours

Poem-A-Day #125 : Blankets

For the thirds day of the Salon, a very short Remember.

The original :

Untitled (2/17/99)

The surface is texture
It is hilled and mountained
The fibers conjoined


The edit :

Blankets

surface          texture and conjoined          and
          the fibers          mountain

Poem-A-Day #124 : Guernica

Day 2 of my Remember project stumbles to the starting point of my obsession with Pablo Picasso's Guernica. It began with a really odd piece of theater. A high school did an original dance/movement piece that slowly revealed the full tableau of the painting across the stage. Each of the figures in the painting was given a solo dance. It was crazy and wonderful.

The original:

Guernica (12/6/98)

Came from above the rain
The purple is broken open
Tossing summersaults in the air it falls
Something inside me makes me want to run
Something inside me makes me want to put my arms up like I were crucified
Someone inside me runs away and is gone
Came down to earth
The red is spread out
Twisting summersaults in the air it falls
Guernica is confronted
Guernica is gone


The edit:

Guernica

From above the purple
          above the rain
the sky is open

The pouring face tosses itself in the air
          it falls

          You want to run

          You want to be crucified

          You are both

Red spreads like paint
          summersaulting over the earth

It ignites
          and within moments
it is gone

Guernica (1937) - Pablo Picasso