Ugh... most every night I wake up at around 3:30 or 4:00 in the morning with thoughts... thoughts racing in my brain. It's very difficult to "turn them off" (almost impossible, it seems) and it's mostly annoying. But SOMETIMES it results in something positive. I've been thinking A LOT lately (even during my waking hours) about the implications (legal and psychological) of using old yearbook photos in my collages. I will be presenting a paper at this year's Southern Humanities Conference (in Louisville, KY, USA) addressing these concerns. At this WONDERFUL conference, we also have an "open mike" night which usually involves poetry readings by members of the group. Last year, I was honored to be part of those readings. I have already posted one of the poems that I will read this year (entitled "Visage"), but am interested in developing two or three others. Last night when I was unable to get back to sleep, I worked on another poem in my head. I didn't want to "lose" some of the phrasing that was coming racing in my head, so I got up and actually started the writing process on this ekphrasic piece. I "reserve the right" to edit the poem, but am pretty pleased with what I have so far. I would prefer that you read the poem; and then re-read it once you have seen the collage below.
Thrall
Across the miles of time,
we meet, by chance.
… or perhaps better than chance;
albeit petite probabilities
The children rummage;
themselves adults;
and remind their children,
that your name was Mary
We’re looking
at the same moon this evening
We’re wondering
what happened across time
The narrative has
inevitably been changed.
Seemingly surreal,
but still grounded in the real
Am I taking advantage
of your beauty?
Like plucking and pruning a rose?
An alternative to obscurity?
Your granddaughter
surprised to see you…
with Phillipe!?
A black-and-white world
has turned to the color of the fall,
of the buildings,
of the miles of time.
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