Wednesday, November 4, 2009

a poem a week keeps.....

As I am still trying to come down from my many extremely creative months working on 'this comes from within', I am waking up to all the possibilities of inspiration around me. I have joined a group where we share a photograph a day ~ this activity has sent my creative brain in to over drive. Suddenly I am seeing the world in a new light. It has made the past weeks wildly intense ~ I am acutely aware of the changing colors of Autumn. This state of mind has reminded me of the time when i was painting still-life's ~ I would be walking around seeing possible paintings and now I am seeing wonderful photos ~ unique compositions, interesting lighting, wondrous textures & surprising reflections. And while on this creative buzz I decided to make sure i keep other art forms in my life , especially poetry. So I am going to try to post a poem a week ~ because 'assignments', like a photo a day or a poem a week seem to work well for me. So in honor of my 'new' way of viewing the world I am going to share this poem which I found in my current studio when I moved in.
'This much I do Remember' by Billy Collins

It was after dinner.
You were talking to me across the table
about something or other,
a greyhound you had seen that day
or a song you liked,
and I was looking past you
over your bare shoulder
at the three oranges lying
on the kitchen counter
next to the small electric bean grinder,
which was also orange,
and the orange and white cruets for vinegar and oil.
All of which converged
into a random still life,
so fastened together by the hasp of color,
and so fixed behind the animated
foreground of your
talking and smiling,
gesturing and pouring wine,
and the camber of you shoulders
that I could feel it being painted within me,
brushed on the wall of my skull,
while the tone of your voice
lifted and fell in its flight,
and the three oranges
remained fixed on the counter
the way that stars are said
to be fixed in the universe.
Then all of the moments of the past
began to line up behind that moment
and all of the moments to come
assembled in front of it in a long row,
giving me reason to believe
that this was a moment I had rescued
from millions that rush out of sight
into a darkness behind the eyes.
Even after I have forgotten what year it is,
my middle name,
and the meaning of money,
I will still carry in my pocket
the small coin of that moment,
minted in the kingdom
that we pace through every day.

- Billy Collins"


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