MADRID, MARCH 2004
God, Spain again
scraping Guernicas from
walls of trains
Tag Archives: Art
BARBARIANS 2003 AD
BARBARIANS 2003 AD
“We thought of ourselves as people of culture.
How long will it be till others see us that way again? “
Iraqi friend of poet Naomi Nye
The collected works of Hafiz
still outsell the Koran in Iran
Today in Baghdad bombs and fear
scattered lovers of Rumi and Kabir
Museum of modern man’s cradle
lost eighty centuries in a day
Book starved minds, educated thumbs
video game cowboys blew it all away
We thought ourselves people of culture
how long before we can look
at ourselves that way again
THE THERAPIST PRACTICES HER ART
THE THERAPIST PRACTICES HER ART
Dorsey paints with people
dips into their hearts
where all colors
have merged
to mud
***
Gently
lays them out
ultraviolet to infrared
spaces between clearly seen
and hands them back the brush
SALVADOR DALI AS ROCK STAR
SALVADOR DALI AS ROCK STAR
Fails because of melting guitar
FOR IUDITA
FOR IUDITA
(a child of the survivors)
Artists without hands
hold the brush with their feet
Without hands or feet
hold the brush in their teeth
As for me and my friend
all that remains is the navel
And small circles
in the center of
the canvas
CHARTRES CATHEDRAL MAY 9, 2001
CHARTRES CATHEDRAL MAY 9, 2001
Standing at last
in medieval thought made visible
one hundred and seventy three of the most
beautiful stained glass windows in the world
ten thousand figures in glass and stone
Feeling the light and form form feelings
Dorsey and I drift apart
pulled for a moment by different magnets
I look up I have no words
I beckon her over she crosses the rough stone
I kiss her gently hold her a moment and
point to the small center window
high in the west side of the south wing
Where light breaking through cloud
throws fractured beams
through centuried dust
in an exact way and at an exact angle
that it has never slanted before
and will never slant again
We wander in awe
together and apart
light candles, marvel at the art
Famous labyrinth where penitents
crawled three football fields on their knees
Without knowing it had once been there
I miss the Minotaur in the middle
As evening falls I sit on a stone step
by the central altar
watching
for a long time the sun as it sinks
rising in the West Rose Window
From the center
each ring moving outward
moves towards me in explosion 3D
Again I have no words
The words are
From the unquestionable hand
of the undeniable God
a universe flung forth
in crystal cacophony
and order
FRANK HALS MUSEUM
FRANK HALS MUSEUM
The pictures, the building
the furniture, the tapestries
the fireplaces, dishes and crocks
we walk into the sixteenth century
Our landlord at Camperduin
Dorsey reminds me at checkout
could put on the ruffled collar
and fit right in with the guildsmen
KAROLINA
KAROLINA
Artist Laureate of Mykanos
her adopted town floats above the canvas
Windmills dance on the hills
church domes and white houses
rebound light across the narrow lanes
Ships bob on the bluest water
watched by pink pelican and faithful dog
In her pictures, handsome Greek men
work the boats and bars
Forty years from Boston town
she knows too much of these men
but the island nights get cold
Her art raised their two children
it cost a lot
But to marry one of these
patriarchetypical sons of pirates
would have cost more soul
than this artist or her art would pay
COUNTERPOINT
COUNTERPOINT
If you’re going to grow old anyway
Consider doing it as an artist or a poet
Waxing powers may well meet the waning
Tides coming in meeting waves going out
Coals cooling as the iron tempers
A Poem Before Holland
A POEM BEFORE HOLLAND
I travel to Holland
on wings of a childhood story
silver skates and finger in a dike
To lands wrestled from an angry sea
a sea that dearly wants them back
Unceasing vigilance to keep the prize
a dark line drawn across their eyes
I see windmills chop the salt wet air
Art and flowers leaping up in faith
behind thin walls
Back to the little boy and the dike again
legal drugs and red lights in the rain
These are a fair and sturdy people
I like them now, and I like how
In a land where children must
so often act as men
They do not pass acts that treat
their men as children