for Frank O'Hara and Grace Hartigan
Where's
my painter? Who'll
collaborate with me
in the quest for new fruit. our Oranges. I heard
through the grape vine Grace Hartigan
loved Frank O'Hara even though he probably loved the blonde
on Shelter Island.
There's no Joan Miro anymore. Everyone's gone
digital. but Edward Hopper is always popular. And quiet.
While driving home from visiting the cavelier,
I'm sorry I was such a snoozing visitor though
some opportunities did arise,
my mind searched to find a way to tell you
“the streets were black and rainslicked”– only
with a French accent that skins the heart
like an addict's dagger -- a la Baudelaire or Rimbaud
definitely not ebony or onyx. More oil leaked
from a car with over 100K miles – a greasy rainbow beautiful.
Angelina Jolie, if you must, because we are in the moment.
What did you think
Comments
1 - 18 of 18
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I hope you will find these notes useful for embedding French accents:
#1: If you have an "ALT GR" key on yr keypad this allows you to turn an e into an é; and this applies to all vowels.
#2 accent grave is formed by & followed by the vowel followed by "grave"
#3 accent acute is formed by & followed by the vowel followed by "acute"
Similar rules apply for circumflexes (circ) and umlauts (uml).
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Oh thanks for your help.
I don't seem to have an Alt GR key or so it seems. -
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No ALT-GR key? Your keyboard is un peu ancien, peut-être - you see, it works! But only after THREE attempts.
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it might be the option key ... i'm an apple user
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do the jane fonda
i like use of artists themselves as color for a poetic rendering, celebrity as hot and cold media through which viewers project themselves. and then there's you and cars. always driving at something, and here, leaking acryclic oil on the palate. the journey for artistic soulmates will likely take the writer out past the 100K line; i don't see you as one to fall asleep at the wheel though.
time to shift, by the way, and watch the grinding. -silverphish
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love "snoozing visitor" not only for its brevity and unexpected bloom, but also for the sound.
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Hello Lisa
So here I am hoping to say something meaningful about your work.
What I like about this poem is its overwhelming rhythm - it's as if the writer has got something so urgent to say that I the reader must stop and listen and forget about everything else and just flow along with the urgency of the moment ... 'because we are in the moment'. How about adding another question mark after 'for new fruit'? A pleasure to read you. Maria -
oh you crack me up/ or is that down??
angelina !
the slick streets/ what we see
to name the painters
thank you always for that
and the oranges~
the whole story of that
which I knew and need to see and read
held like an orange to suck on.
I do always appreciate what you fold into one of your adventures in writing
an old car
on the road.
beauty finds its way.
happy summer
xo k
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Reading this was like pulling a Christmas cracker and having a hand grenade explode - I wasn't prepared! There's so much packed in here. I had to pause for the pictures, too, then it started raining...greasy rainbows.
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I like "skins the heart
like an addict's dagger" and any poem that mentions a lot of dead poets ... but that's just moi.
Desiree
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Oranges are not the only fruit - a great tv series and a book - over here - about a young girl's passage into her chaotic teenage years
this is woman on the edge of the rainbow
maybe a bit over done in parts and slightly pretentious with all the names of the deadly famous!!?? but hey
it's got all my dead favourites so what the hell
apart from Ang, who isn't dead but still a pouty lipped fave...
lololol
good stuff
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well I'm not a poet
but I think you use too many names for such a short poem
anyways
rainslicked with a french accent is reignleakee
and
there was something digital in miro paintings
the black gaps...
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I'll make it longer next time.
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Was it O'hara who wrote a poem having to do with a painter and a poet creating a work about Oranges?
(dim memory)
Oil slicks
Angelina
still digesting but it's sitting well.
Like it
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yup.
Frank wrote
Why I Am Not a Painter
BY FRANK O'HARA
I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,
for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
“Sit down and have a drink” he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. “You have SARDINES in it.”
“Yes, it needed something there.”
“Oh.” I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. “Where’s SARDINES?”
All that’s left is just
letters, “It was too much,” Mike says.
But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven’t mentioned
orange yet. It’s twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike’s painting, called SARDINES.
and then Grace Hartigan painted a series called Oranges
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preliminary:
Our Ganges.
les rues étaient noires et rainslicked
this Important:
There's no Joan Miro anymore. Everyone's gone
digital.
Reckon folks need to ruminate on that for awhile.
"cavalier"
mebbe, addict's daggar--more concrete.
a greasy rainbow beautiful,
un arc-en-ciel gras beau -
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"our ganges"
wonderful.
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skins the heart with an addict's danger
brilliant line, that
i love long car rides, they do inspire, don't they?
saw three lazy cows on the first one i took here in england
thought it was so poetic and funny i took a picture of it
haven't written it, yet
settling in has left my muse a bit shell-shocked, i think
perhaps it is the smell of paint and plaster
the lack of doors
regardless, she is resting in a restless kind of way
and i am happy for any inspiration that comes my way
so thank you, lisa
you always serve it at the right temperature
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