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| Flowers, by Odilon Redon |
Left too long within a vase
flowers droop and die
so free them I will
let color saturate the sky,
dissolve into pastel blues
become a scrim where nightingales fly.
Keep a few pressed within a book
remind me it's o.k. to cry.
by Margaret Bednar, April 10, 2014
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| Mystery, by Odilon Redon |
notes:
Nightingales are symbolic of love and longing.
Scrim: in theatre - an allusion of a solid wall or backdrop creating a semi-transparent curtain when lit from behind.
This is for "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - The Art of Odilon Redon" - our marching orders? Write an ekphrasis poem - a literary description or commentary on a visual work of art.
For the month of April, I am participating in NaPoWriMo2014 or National Poetry Writing Month. The website is HERE.
In celebration of this year's challenge, I will be giving away a free book of my poetry. If you are interested in participating in this drawing, please click the red logo at the top of my side bar and leave your name and a means to reach (blog, email, etc) you in the comment section.
PLEASE INDICATE YOU WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN THE DRAWING OR I WILL ASSUME YOU ARE JUST COMMENTING. THANKS.
13 comments:
that is lovely, margaret.
This is really vivid, Margaret. I love the imagery.
With shorter than mortal lives, flowers do much to assuage mortal grief. They know both life and death better than we ...
This one just seems to fly off the page, Margaret. A lovely interpretation of not just the images in the pictures, but for me, the colors and mood. Thanks for teaching me the word scrim--very evocative and perfectly used here, and thanks for participating.
I can only agree with what everyone else has already said... This is beyond beautiful!
beautiful..specially those pressed within a book...
This is an awesome response to the art, Margaret. I love how you saw a connection between the two pieces - the controlled still life and the abstractions of the portrait.
I had the image of these lovely flowers being thrown to the sky to lend color. I also liked the word scrim.
Your poem makes me see those paintings in a different way. Isn't that a cool thing? You opened my eyes to a new perspective with your words.
Margaret, I love your poem.
"Become a scrim where nightingales fly".
Really beautiful.
I tried the press-in-a-book trick, but it didn't work very well. Not as well as your poem.
I really like this and feel comforted by the pressed petal that will remain, as well as the photo of the flowers in their prime. It reminds me of this: http://www.looseleafnotes.com/2009/10/here-lies-marigolds-and-zinnias/
This is perfect Margaret, both in the poetic and emotional sense. I think this is my favorite.
All have their purposes--so lovely for you to point that out--really nice. k.
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