I saw him once—on film—
painting on glass camera
poised beneath to capture
spatterswirlcoilflash
colorshapetexture
as paint flew—faster than vision—
onto glass lines
perfectly obedient to his wish
placedspaced
sharpenedshaped
anyone could do that—someone smirked—
but no his
brush moved too carefully to
handeyearmbody
imagevisionmagic
what emerged—not madness—
but method art
chaos in my world
controlledmodifiedarticulated
transformed to form
Author notes
Image: http://academics.smcvt.edu/gblasdel/slides%20ar333/webpages/j.%20pollock,%20number%201.htm
A contest entry
- Jackson Pollock and others like him by whispernthedark.
645 points, ended February 9, 2008, 8 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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The word artist,
shaping form by vision
capturing the frenetic
painter as uniquely
as the canvasses created.
Bravo, word artist Micol!
Aesthete
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This is an amazing write, I love your style. One small thing, I think in line 14 you meant to put brush instead of brushed. I really love this entry. Thank you for entering the contest, good luck.
♥
whisper
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Thanks for the note on the typo...since corrected. And for setting the contest, which allowed me to remember something remarkable from so many years past. And, of course, fo the silver. Much appreciated.
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Yep ...
I'd have to say you've got this one nailed. Can't say I was a big fan of his painting but there's no doubt he was meticulous to the extreme, and he knew exactly what he was doing at all times, as, obviously, do you.
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This one uses structure as a more obvious statement as well as a form to drape words upon. The style helps to emphasis Pollock's energy and craft by the spacing between the words that emphasis action combined with thought. Very nicely done. I learn a lot just watching the way you play with the form you decide to use and how it influences the meaning you create.
Love,Tom B.
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Thanks for the close reading. This was fun. I still remember clearly that day in high-school art when I discovered that what I had always shrugged off as merely daubs was incredibly controlled. The way the camera beneath the glass caught his movements, the intensity in his expression. And the speed of his movements! Hope the poem does him justice.
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