unconventional strokes,
bold sweeping lines and curves,
pendulum from the center, stretched to edges
of storm sprayed canvas,
she peers closely to decipher his name,
to understand a little of his madness, embers and
shape of his soul as colors dripped from his hands
freely, as eastern winds sweep blue mountain,
joyously, as monarch butterflies travel south,
rebelliously, as the last autumn leaf clings to the branch
against the rigid rules and structure, his fingers
smeared orange, yellow, black, blue, red, white, grey, green,
a salve for hands, itching to drown in bottles of vodka and wine
again and again, he lived in the moment, lone voyager,
untouched by fame and pressure that circles like a vulture,
preying on his doubts, growing mushroom clouds in his mind
she touches the edge of the frame in loving gesture,
she had long lost him to the devil's cup and arms of other women,
a poor replacement for his muse, who also left him in despair and grief
now as she walks away,
she treasures the gift he had given her:
free spirit
Posted for: D'verse Poets Pub: What's The Buzz
and Poets United: Artist: Jackson Pollock: He became a leading artist, a pioneer in the Abstract Expressionism movement and is famous for his technique of dripping and pouring paint onto his canvases. He was married to Lee Krasner, also an artist, and was known for his extreme alcoholism. Pollock died in an alcohol-related car accident in 1956.
I can somewhat relate to this. A haunting write.
ReplyDeleteI think there is a little madness in all of us ~ Thanks Charles for the visit ~
DeleteNow, you are writing so lovingly of the gift that art bequeaths, even to the jilted lover. I thought at first, the narrator was the poet, and then it became clear you were speaking of his wife. I like the symbiosis at work in that idea, where poet and beloved of the artist merge, and then gently separate to go their individual ways, each with the gift that the artist;s work has imparted.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your lovely words Charles ~ Indeed it is from his wife's perspective that I wrote this, because she too is famous abstract painter after his death ~
Delete"against the rigid rules and structure, his fingers
ReplyDeletesmeared" ... This is my favorite line. Such a sad ending.
Thanks for the visit and lovely words ~
DeleteYou have written such an amazing poem here - I love the lushness of the images the colors sent your mind exploring. Love the story of his life and his wife's, with such a positive ending. I so loved reading this.
ReplyDeleteThank you Sherry ~ I enjoyed reading his story and that of his wife, both are amazing artists ~
Deleteagainst the rigid rules of structure....revolutionary....it takes a few to get things spinning in a new direction....nice emotional pull in the end as well with her losing him to the devils cup...why is it the revolutionary minds always seem the most fragile...
ReplyDeleteThat he was...I do like the ending question ~ His doubts of his talent drove him deeper and deeper into drinking ~ Thanks for the visit Brian ~
DeleteBeautiful, Grace. You not only brought the picture to life through your interpretation, but you also personalized it. Great ending, too!
ReplyDeleteThanks Laurie ~ The artist was an inspiration ~
DeleteYou always amaze me with your ability of the fullness of story in the form of your poetry. There're not really a lot of words here but you really manage to create an entire world with them! Well written!
ReplyDeletefree spirit is a great gift in exchange for taking the time to understand the others madness.. nicely painted grace
ReplyDeleteShe also gave him an intellectual foundation for his work and the connections to become a success but I come with my own biases to your beautiful story. I have several of Lee Krasner's books. I love how you described the artwork, really wonderful!
ReplyDeleteReally nicely done Heaven. Nice build up here, great ending, and I love the again and again stanza. Thanks
ReplyDeleteYou captured the lack of discipline very well and you clearly are in tune with Pollock's work.
ReplyDeleteSo impressed with this: you do in words what Jack the Dripper does with colour. I bet he would have loved seeing this.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful interpretation of the artist. I bet he drove his wife crazy too. Yes, there is a little madness in each of us. His paintings would drive me nuts .. so chaotic. But I love your imagery :)
ReplyDeleteoh, the days of jumping on a whim long gone... someone needs to be practical... smiles
ReplyDeleteI think you might have captured a wife's feelings here. Though he was gone she still had his art, something to remember him by as he was, and something that will live forever (unlike the artist or herself).
ReplyDeletethat was very inspired, sister!
ReplyDeleteA little crazy isn't a bad thing, even a lot crazy in a certain cat's case haha, wonderfully created and captured moment.
ReplyDeletethis is fantastic writing...quite an inspiration!
ReplyDeleteYou got the feel of paint dripping, layered words dripping instead--very abstract and an excellent take on the prompt,Heaven.
ReplyDeleteI really like what you've done here. You have a great talent for weaving words. So nice.
ReplyDeleteWonderful...I used autumn leaves in my, too~
ReplyDeleteLove all the dripping in yours...paints the madness well!
His story is so sad but you captured it beautifully. Thank you, Heaven.
ReplyDeleteThis is a beautiful tribute, Heaven. So well written.
ReplyDeleteyes sad, evocative, expressive.
ReplyDelete"she had long lost him to the devil's cup and arms of other women,
ReplyDeletea poor replacement for his muse, who also left him in despair and grief " This is a scenario I am familiar with. Leaving a poet/writer to rise from the ashes..
"free spirit" which is what we give our muses. free spirit and immortality in verse.
Good Write :)
Wow, you're quite a painter yourself! Nice gem :) Loved it from title to end.
ReplyDeleteomg. i felt this piece.
ReplyDeletei know this person.
and described so perfectly.
wonderful write heaven.
Oh, I really like storm sprayed canvas. Very nice!
ReplyDelete