My response to "The Block" art work by Bearden
Abandoned hope
Trapped and uneasy
A strangely familiar scene
Intense colors surround
sinister reality
laying on the street
near an alley
meat is a luxury
warmth the desire
prejudice is truth
behind the iron curtain
you think you see me
you could aid
instead you glare
hateful inadequacies
you displace
once innocent
now corrupted by time
laughter rings
a song of hope
can they make it
will my fate be theirs
Murder of life before it begins
Massacre of adolescence
The trial begins now
Dancing away on cement
Chalk outlines of their life
Before vivid drawings
Now colorless outlines
A peaceful observer
On the path
I see the certainty
Angels tarnished
Here no privacy exists
Even during private affairs
My ears can hear you
Filtering the interchange
And background clamor
A child conceived
Death of saints
Over the bell tower
Cherubs hover taking one home
Specters seize others
Watchful judgment
I pass on this street
A block different
From yours
sharing coordinates
Blocks compile
designing their only shape
typecast signs flash
brown bags of happiness
this city chokes with urban bile
Melissa Daniels
6/11/08
Trapped and uneasy
A strangely familiar scene
Intense colors surround
sinister reality
laying on the street
near an alley
meat is a luxury
warmth the desire
prejudice is truth
behind the iron curtain
you think you see me
you could aid
instead you glare
hateful inadequacies
you displace
once innocent
now corrupted by time
laughter rings
a song of hope
can they make it
will my fate be theirs
Murder of life before it begins
Massacre of adolescence
The trial begins now
Dancing away on cement
Chalk outlines of their life
Before vivid drawings
Now colorless outlines
A peaceful observer
On the path
I see the certainty
Angels tarnished
Here no privacy exists
Even during private affairs
My ears can hear you
Filtering the interchange
And background clamor
A child conceived
Death of saints
Over the bell tower
Cherubs hover taking one home
Specters seize others
Watchful judgment
I pass on this street
A block different
From yours
sharing coordinates
Blocks compile
designing their only shape
typecast signs flash
brown bags of happiness
this city chokes with urban bile
Melissa Daniels
6/11/08
posted by MJB at 3:47 PM
2 Comments:
I love list poems--yours is terrific--especially "brown bags of happiness".
Thank you, it is appreciated.
This is how I explained my thoughts about my poem. This is posted on the e-anthology as well.
“The Block” is so full of images, they flood your sense. You attempt to find all of them, decode them, process, and store, but you can’t. So, my thought was a collage of poetry to match the collage of imagery. I wanted it to, like the art work; rush your senses and create a desire for more. This city block never stops to breath, in a reckless controlled spin, things never slow down. I related that to the structure of them poem and decided it only should slow down when the reader needs a breath or a snippet of time to digest this world.
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