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Posts Tagged ‘sense of self’

Dear Gustav Klimt,

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on November 18, 2023| 12 Comments »


 
 
Please, don’t paint me today.
Maybe sketch me in pencil,
arms dangling soft by my sides.
Perhaps another day
I will gaze at the world
straight on, chin up,
eyes full of challenge
lips curled in risk.
Perhaps another day
I’ll stand with defiance,
long hair tossed back,
hands on my hips.
But today, dear man,
keep the eraser close.
I’m more paper than gesture.
more blank than bold stroke.
Today I have no mask,
no message, no need
to be seen. In fact,
Gustav, close your eyes.
Let me ask you about
when you met Typhon
and the Gorgons
and how things changed
from snakes to angel choirs
from skulls to golden kisses.
Here, good man.
Show me your face.
Please, hand me the pencil.

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The In Between

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on April 30, 2012| 2 Comments »

Spring, how I love you,
this sun-giddy daze,
the light tangling low

in your aspen drupes,
and the new green, so pale
in the cottonwood trees.

Spring, your breath of
rain, your unruly wind, how you
shred my thoughts

until all that is left
is a woman standing
in the field.

Spring, your dandelions
already white globes in my yard.
Just yesterday they were gold.

I was gold once, too,
and though I would never
go back, oh Spring, how you

return and return, forever new.
I love you, Spring,
the candytuft white

beside the dirt path and
confusion of hummingbird wings
as they search for where

the red feeder was.
I too have lost something,
my way, was it?

Something I felt so certain of,
so black and white, it was,
it was just a month ago,

oh Spring, I’m so fuzzy now,
so full of, is it light?
oh, I don’t know.

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