Saturday, August 04, 2007

The faintest color

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Woman On The Left

A certain menace in the eyes, the fork of no concern
belies wherein a worm or hook might tack or take its turn,
No gold laced hay or sainted straw scattered in the bed
Day breaks beyond the frame where shadows home the stead.
Her head poised in mild regard to what the right hand knows:
Hard as gothic glass is how American winds pitch blows.
No cotton more severe than that so collared in the light,
Fear the faintest color overlaid in starchest white.


Joseph Gallo
August 3, 2007


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4 Comments:

Anonymous aharamanx parried...

Exceptional as always !

August 09, 2007 6:45 AM  
Anonymous Bryan parried...

I must say Joe, that in my mellowed days of recent years
I've come to see myself and my own personal experience reflected in music and poetry and paint, as well as stage and film and sculpture, which to me just about covers everything else.
Life, yes?
I line up in front and behind and just let it speak to me, speak of me.

I say all that to say this;
with this piece there is still conversation going on, and I don't think that I can comment in a way reflective. I'll think about it for awhile, and let my rumtopf brain mature some more.

The painting photo negative is interesting, of course, because it is not an exact negative of the painting.
In my way of thinking about it, our negative energies and actions aren't exact either, but exacting; twisting how we imagine our faults and causes.

For the most part, I wouldn't trade any of it; because as a personal matter, I wouldn't know
what the big mirror in the sky was trying to relate if I couldn't trust my perception of the nature of the horrors around me/us.

All that said, I'll store up some more of that praise that makes you uncomfortable, and realize that you still struggle too, in the grand scheme.
That makes us brothers of the yellowed page.

Thank you for such work as you do.
Bryan

August 10, 2007 6:15 PM  
Blogger _Soulless_ parried...

It must be a spell. *grin* I hear a wand swishing invisibly; maybe it's pointed at me, a reader, who is made to shift form. ^_^ Yeah, a stretch, I know, but there's just something about the relaxed feel of good rhyming that makes me somewhat expect magic to physically manifest like dazzling colored sparks before me.

You wizard.

^_^ Cheers.

August 11, 2007 11:44 AM  
Blogger Jonice parried...

I may lack references and yet your written lines sound rhythmicly enough to paint the very picture we see. And then the negative picture and its enlarged fork set a kind of mystery and movement is born.
Wow... this piece triggers me to plunge deeper into the language.
Thank you and 1 beijinho :)

August 12, 2007 7:08 AM  

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