Sunday, August 26, 2012

Doubts of black and white

                                                   
                                                      Big Room, 1948, by Andrew Wyeth





i remembered how you were last summer,
green skirt hued with red plump strawberries,
your brown eyes like wine, full of promise   

in this big room, the clock had ticked slowly
like waltz on fire-wood, slow burning, clinging,
rattling the stoic windows into river storm  

we thought we are special breed, 
black and white pods against the world, 
above the bust and din of prying eyes,
prickling our skin with doubts, until our candles waned

dying slowly in this airless room,   
sepia-washed, strained of seeds and flesh 
i burn your words in the urn, black as
dry leaves gather, waiting for the winter wind
  


Posted for the The Mag:  132

44 comments:

  1. is special and reminder me my own doubts!

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  2. Nostalgic piece, vivid and beautifully penned, Grace. I especially like the first stanza.

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  3. Mmm...interesting 'airless' quality you focussed on - perhaps due to lack of colour?

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  4. Undercurrent of sadness and despair here leave me with wanting to know more.

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  5. The play on colors in the poem is intriguing against the bleached look of the painting. I like it.

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  6. Gorgeous! I saw this room in much the same way. Love how you have written it.

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  7. For an empty room, Wyeth surely painted some thoughtful ideas, didn't he? I love how the sun reminded the writer of summer here, and how love used to be. Your words in later stanzas, bring in the chill of the winter snows, Heaven. A beautiful composition. Thank you for sharing. =D

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  8. nice images in the poem, Heaven!

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  9. I love the image of the waltz on fire wood. Sad ending though. I guess the room being empty leaves us feeling that emptiness too maybe?

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  10. we thought we were different but....that caught me right there as i think we all find ourselves there at some point...that last stanza ...the burning , waiting on the wind is so emotive as well....really nice grace...

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  11. thanks for your comment, this was my first and last, i am NOT a writer, but you certainly are. it's beautiful.

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  12. A poem that lingers on your mind long after you have read the last line...beautiful.

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  13. loved it all but esp the sepia washed..perfect for the picture..x

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  14. I really liked this
    Like a grandfather clock at midnight, in an empty house.
    It haunts
    Rick

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  15. It never ceases to amaze me how one image can evoke so many different views-
    I especially like the last four lines.

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  16. Really lovely...makes me yearn all the more for autumn...

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  17. Waltz on firewood ! very cool!

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  18. well done...thanks for sharing your words

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  19. A piece, Grace. Happy Sunday :)

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  20. Lamenting and remembering the emptiness of missing someone dear! It can be quite testing. But it isn't that bad as it's just from last summer to the next winter. But still...! Nice write, Grace!

    Hank

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  21. Aw. . . dying from airlessness, as if hiding away in a retreat zapped the color from the possibilities. Do send those ashes off on the winter wind, and open the windows with your smile.

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  22. Reflective and poignant - the sadness of lost love.

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  23. Very evocative - adding life and love to the image, and then bringing us back to the sad reality at the end. I enjoyed the first verse especially - the best side of memory.

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  24. I love the images that flash through my mind when reading this.

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  25. This very eloquent Grace, it does seem like an autumn airlock, soon the reaper will reappear over there , eh? And you can all breathe a sigh of relief, thanks

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  26. Tinged with sepia, sadness and possibly regret. Like the memories of last summer and the unfulfilled promise. Lovely!

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  27. You really take your reader on a journey here. So well done.

    =)

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  28. Such lovely images carry me away!

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  29. Beautiful, beautiful wordplay.

    Anna :o]

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  30. The emotions are movingly conjured. Well done.

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  31. This is just spectacular, Grace. My take was about death also, and I wonder how many saw it that way (am just beginning to read others now).
    dying slowly in this airless room, = what a line.

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  32. Beautiful imagery here Grace....love this! :-)

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  33. I burn your words ... and waiting for the winter wind

    very strong images. I love the feel of crisp coldness on my cheeks - it makes me feel so alive and refreshed. I guess that is what this person longs for too.

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  34. like waltz on fire-wood, slow burning, clinging,.....beautiful, really beautiful! Well done.

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  35. Oh this is so pretty. Funny how so many people thought of time when seeing the picture... I just thought of autumn, and evening. I see you might have thought of autumn too? Love the wordplay. My favorite stanza was:

    "in this big room, the clock had ticked slowly
    like waltz on fire-wood, slow burning, clinging,
    rattling the stoic windows into river storm"

    I could see two people made of fire waltzing on fire-wood. Pretty amazing!
    Lovely work! Well done =)

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  36. Oh and here's what I wrote, in case you're interested.
    http://diamondsmadeofglass.blogspot.fi/2012/09/dusk.html

    PS. This poem was really sad to me. I loved the contrast of the colorful skirt and the sepia-washed picture. Really does miracles do the imagery in this.

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