equilibrium…for balance I shall raise my arms
to both sides of a narrow hall…touch horizontal
dimensions of dark passage there
suspicion…of lacunae within rooms I would
open…enter…dread they are mere frame facade
of a cosmic movie set…where I shall fall onto
a dry and dusty street below
caution…I stop…hear scurry scratching feet,
smell damp must…press bare toes into soft
sponge of rot…touch fur of mold beneath
and final implication of doing nothing,
as if I am already in my tomb…already
seeping eventual…decaying elemental,
fading to oblivion…and anyhow…anyhow
there is music behind a doorway and brave
shouts of ecstasy and laughter…deep sobs,
and I…destined and compelled…eager and
willingly compliant enter on my cue
by Bonnie Marshall
Art by Edward Hopper
16 thoughts on “facade and a space”
For some people, it’s always about the show. Well written, Bonnie.
Thank you, Sharon. I enjoy writing about engaging in living a full life. Smile.
So very interesting! I love it.
Very good to know, Nancy. Smile. Thank you.
that is the most engaging poem I’ve read for quite a while.
Then, I’m very pleased you think so, Belinda. Know it’s important to me. Smile.
Oh my Bonnie… the picture, the scene…I’m left with feelings all over the place reading this and listening to any little twig snap my radar is synapsing. Hearing your voice deepens the “lacunae” of your so able storytelling….
Dear Jana, I hope you have some idea of how much I value your words, because this one’s been a bear to get right. I’m deeply appreciative. Smiles…
I’m glad you’ve answered. I can comb down the hairs on the back of my neck now. Good one Bonnie….!
First off, congratulations on finding a Hopper I had never seen before, or at least cannot remember seeing.
This is a beautiful poem, full of anticipation and dread, yet great courage too. Yeah, though we all…I hope I shall fear no evil too.
Glad you like the Hopper…first I write a poem’s draft or two or…and then search for illustration that will not simply mirror it. I was fortunate here to find ideas that bounced off each other. Thank you, John. Very much.
The struggle to navigate that narrow hall with both fear and anticipation of what we might find. That’s as good a metaphor for life’s journey as I’ve seen..
So fine to hear from you again, Malcolm. We are a curious species, and it sustains us. Smiles…
“willingly compliant” — how often i find myself in that situation. it’s wonderful how the your poem plays off of hopper’s painting. i can only imagine the hours of crafting you’ve done on this piece.
I’m grateful you sense the time…so long trying to find a painting after I wrote it, for at first I found a picture of a Hollywood backlot…didn’t work. Please know how much I appreciate the time you spend responding. Smiles…