Disillusionment of Ten o'Clock

The complimenting video of Disillusionment of Ten o’Clock by Wallace Stevens provided an appropriate vibe. The message of this poem is conveyed in a respective manner, the ordinary people in white nightgown are described bleakly all the same while the drunken old sailor is portrayed in a colorful light. The choice of the color yellow on the sailor, even though its not mention in the poem, is successful in contrast to the boring people. The repetitive structure of lines four through six emphasizes the townspeople, the multitude of them and lack of difference. I love the message of the poem, the routine habits creates the mundane causing the lost of imagination. The last line “catches tigers in red weather” is so different its unsettling yet refreshing.

Archaic Torso of Apollo

Archaic Torso of Apollo by Rainer Maria Rllke is a poem of the viewer taking in a destroyed statue of the god Apollo. The speaker analyzes the statue in its beheaded form and imagines the life of the statue in its original state. He is absolutely absorbed in this statue and finds it pleasing to be lost in its beauty. The structure of the poem is appealing, beginning with the legendary head that is not there and working descriptively down the statue. The speaker brings life into the statue if the statue still had a head. The last line in the third verse, “would not glisten like a wild beast’s fur,” indicates the statue has lost its fierce life. The last verse reads to me that the god Apollo is beyond this earthly world as if he has “burst” from the statue. The last line is definitely a curveball, “you must change your life.” Is this a moment of realization for the speaker to become something more inspired from this statue?

In the Gallery

There's a painting called
"The Red Shoes"
No one has daintily stepped in red gracefully
I know, because red scatters unpredictably
The hands grip, the red
talks, there I ponder

The path were once as sunshine
as yellow of gold
the blooming at noon
used to be clear as honey
you had to glide with ease
just to not disturb peace

Now the jealous is emerging
through the innocence of self
the heel is a witty trap
conniving and plotting sinisterly
in clinging passion
the great secret lies
on some whimsical young girl

Continue everyday in constant struggle
gripping in blood, so beautiful stepped
she walks forward as if fearless
the hands are dripping
I cannot move, but she can.

Nude Descending a Staircase

X. J. Kennedy Nude Descending a Staircase is probably my favorite poem based of a piece of artwork. The poem brings out a refreshing vibe from this painting by Marcel Duchamp. Each verse has something I love about it. A gold of lemon, this line conveys elegancy with a zest. She proceeds down the stairs “with nothing on. Nor on her mind.” I imagine the figure move with an air of class and celestial qualities.  She has no problems troubling her and is carefree with a simple smile. One-woman waterfall is a perfect metaphor for this painting. The ending of the poem is successful in tying everything together into one neat package, also relating back to the artwork, all motions summing into one collective pose. 

Change

A single thought
spreads viral
effecting pure notions
of well being

knocking down
the structural blueprints
holes burned
requiring new plans

pushed off
into confusion
pulled in
by opportunity

The Red Studio

Matisse: “The Red Studio” by W.D. Snodgrass has so much liveliness even though the objects in the painting are inanimate. The energy weaved into the poem is invigorating. “Like a great beast sinking into sands,” is such a powerful and imaginative line. The poet portrays the studio to produce life with an electric vibe. The line “his own room drank him” unifies the real and the unreal. The room looks like a warm red wine, the play on imagination that the room consumes the artists is cunning. I love the personification of the red walls, “ the belly of these walls that burn.” The line evokes me to imagine the wall swallowing up these paintings but at the same time, the paintings stay stationary. 

Cezanne's Port

I’m not sure how I feel about Cezanne’s Ports by Allen Ginsberg. I like Paul Cezanne’s painting, L’Estaque much more. Poems inspired or written about paintings are a hit or miss for me. If the poem describes literally with not much insight, I’m not into it. If the poem brings the painting on a different level by creating a story beyond the painting, I then love it. This poem does discuss activity outside the canvas, but it isn’t enough for me. It’s interesting how the poet uses bleak white haze to accompany heaven. My attention is more on the painting, how the water reaches across both sides of the canvas, how lovely it must be to live in the French village below.