image by Francesca Woodman
my hands mock
images brimming in my head
raw and bare earth
my breasts betray
passion surging in my limbs
consuming, black blur
my eyes flicker
like paper doll, stripped empty
unworthy of you
i hurl the shell of me,
fragile as glass, but cold as stone
to sky window
please,
remember my face
Posted for The Mag 130 : Francesca Woodman was a young American photographer whose work was produced between 1972 and 1981. Despite the fact that she was working for only a short period, Woodman has, over the past 30 years, gained a reputation as one of the most important names in photography. She committed suicide at age 22.
I like the notice of the absence of the face.
ReplyDeleteI noticed this feature in most of her photographs ~ Thanks for the visit ~
DeleteGiving her voice, though she has no mouth to speak through is the perfect way to handle this haunt.
ReplyDeleteDo you know that in most of her work, she is also the model? Thanks for the lovely words Susan ~
DeleteNow I do, I looked her up and found that there is even a pov video on npr! I wish I'd known her.
DeleteFragile but cold.. Lovely :)
ReplyDeleteWow that was dark yet not, as the chills crept up slowly.
ReplyDeleteFor the first time for the Mag, I didn't read up a bit on the artist. How tragic to have commit suicide at 22. She had so much life to live.
ReplyDeleteYour poetry is as equally sad.
Lovely write Heaven.
RYN: I can write very, very hot, and have done many times and do share as and when it suits ;) Watch this space...lol
You've produce a piece every bit as harrowing as the picture... :)
ReplyDeletemoving
ReplyDeletewah!
ReplyDeleteIt's so hard to mask passion and want. Something always betrays our truth. So yes, may as well just surrender to a raw plea.
ReplyDeleteBeautifly done, grace
Rick
i hurl the shell of me...love that bit right there...so much emotion in those quick lines...and i absolutely love your closure on this...remember my face when there is none in the picture...
ReplyDeletethat was intense, the picture is also intense
ReplyDeletelove this.....the hurl and the face and thanks or the info on the photographer...we are all in charge of our own destiny...x
ReplyDeleteI really like your reference to the paper doll...nice...
ReplyDeleteIndeed, the arresting line is "hurl the shell of me". There is enough in there to hold the poem until the plea carries it home. I found family reminiscences of Francesca on video and the link is on my blog. It looks like self destruction was as mysterious for them as it so often is for us all who stay behind.
ReplyDeleteOooh black blur and paper dolls- thinning down close to evaporation.
ReplyDeletedangerous territory.
I love this: "i hurl the shell of me,
ReplyDeletefragile as glass"
Vulnerability. With the very touching plea at the end "please,
ReplyDeleteremember my face". Beautifully done.
Her success still wasn't enough. Heartbreaking. Thank you, Heaven.
ReplyDeleteI passion in this poem. how every word seem to have a power that made me want to take another look at the photo.
ReplyDeleteFantastic ending, last two stanzas just great
ReplyDeleteohhhhhh, speachless
ReplyDelete"the shell of me" Powerful poem.
ReplyDeleteThe energy in your poem is without esteem or joy.... powerful but oh, so sad, Heaven. This was brilliantly crafted, and moving. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeletePaper doll - perfection!
ReplyDeleteI too had to take another look at the photo and ponder a bit about the photographer after reading. It's a powerful poem and I really appreciate the info about her.
ReplyDeleteA person with soul but without face is just as strong. It's just choice! Great write Heaven!
ReplyDeleteHank
Very cool poem. Really well done. k.
ReplyDeleteTerrific expose ofmthe sexual energy and experience of the courtesan , Heaven, indeed they are people too, and it is equally possible to fall in lust or love in that situation if all the planets align, i imagine .
ReplyDeleteplease remember the face...excellent write!!!
ReplyDeleteimages brimming in my head...remember my face...
ReplyDeletethe image itself: evocative image, I'm not familiar with this woman's work-will explore. Your words bring deep feelings, a rawness to the experience. Thank you.
As pretty as a Paper-doll, for sure!
ReplyDeleteheaven, your poem in visceral. a powerful tribute to woman.
ReplyDeleteHaunting close!
ReplyDeleteAn intriguing take on this photo-- xxxj
ReplyDeleteTwo stand-out references for me; the paper doll and the shell of me. There's a poignant call to remember her face when it has already been obliterated. Lovely poem.
ReplyDeleteWow!
ReplyDeleteLovely take on this intriguing image. You have captured the beauty and mystery of it in your poem.
ReplyDeletethis.
ReplyDeletesighs.
just this.
lisa
awesome! nicely penned!..
ReplyDeleteJJRod'z