at the gallery with
standers…standing me
apart…as it should be
me… and the whoever
there pendant in the rooms
I search for connection
to be with that distant one
who’s thinking me the ropes…
some grasp of their experience…
though tenuous at best and
not meant to be a séance
except when I’m in the moment
and…I stroll and stop and stroll
and stop, and gaze and gaze and
read title cards…
“Tropic Table Afternoon”
still life…papaya…guava…mango
coconut’s monkey eyes looking
back at me
“Henry James’ Dinner Tales of Asparagus”
abstract…white…silver…faded green
ice tink to cut crystal in a distant room
“Cold Cereal at Midnight”
impressionist…bare light bulb
open window…barren kitchen
November raining in my mind
all flat painted canvas on flat painted wall
and I turn outside from in…restless
for store front windows on busy streets,
unless it’s Banksy…then all bets are off
keep away the rain…take pictures for a book
on a coffee table
Bonnie Marshall
Artwork by Michelangelo Pistoletto
Superb in every way and on so many levels Bonnie, an intricate web of experience that leaves me speechless…
You noticed the levels, John, and I’m so glad, because I wondered if anyone would. Bless you…and thank you.
I had to wait to comment, Bonnie, until I could stand quiet with you here.
Oh my …
I can see that whenever now in rooms full of wandering people, I will inevitably be amused by their ‘pendant-cy’. It’ll always make me laugh and there’ll be that to deal with… but this is a very good thing.
Jana, dear poet friend, your thoughtful comment tells me you catch this poem, as I hoped…actually knew… you would.
Absolutely superb.
Specially appreciated, Ward, for you know all about levels upon levels.
Excellently done. Loved the way you used “pendant” especially. There is intimacy kept at a distance mgnified by the experience of “…gaze and gaze and read title cards.” >KB
Grateful for your specifics, Kenneth. This one was extraordinarily fun for me to think through.
Thanks for following my blog! Looking forward to reading more of your fantastic work 😉
And certainly I…yours.
Sometimes at a gallery I just stand and watch the people looking at the paintings as if *they* were the exhibition…they glance but they rarely look, see but rarely think, or even try to breathe in the paintings.
Right…grazing for beauty. Recently I read about a man who visits the Metropolitan Museum of Art each week and concentrates on just one section, perhaps one painting. Perk of living in New York. Smiles.
Bonnie, this poem reinforced my feeling that art galleries are like zoos, they contain wild things that don’t belong there. Consequently the visitors are often more interesting than the exhibits. Beautifully done. Your blog was definitely one of those I missed most during my blogging ‘break’.
“…that galleries are like zoos, they contain wild things…” Such an intriguing idea, Malcolm. I missed your writing, also. Smiles.
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Please know I am grateful for your interest and generosity. Very.
❤ Gratitude
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