Rising. Poem by David Chorlton.

Dear Robin,
 
I hope you’re well and enjoying springtime. We have old friends here in Arizona, one of whom is a well known sculptor whose work is in several public locations. He is John Henry Waddell, now in his nineties. He has recently finished a large scale work, Rising, which we got see on a recent visit. I wrote this poem about Rising, and think it works best with the picture of the sculpture, so I thought of your format. The figures are in relief and in an ideal setting would be set on the side of a tall building.

 
 
Rising
 
 

    for John Henry Waddell

 

So many windy spirits here
leaving their routines behind
at the kitchen stove, the desk,
the production line at which
they work a living from monotony
and after years with gravity in charge
they suddenly believe in birds
more than in following instructions.
The first ones up
 
reach for those who follow,
while some look around
from above the traffic and the building sites
and wonder why it took so long
for this to happen. As it tilts away
the ground now seems
unlikely as a base
of operations, marked as it is
with boundaries and borders
and pocked with the craters
from conflicts that continue
 
without ever having begun.
It’s like forgetting what happened
today, this release, and remembering
all the days before it
back through time. It’s like
swimming out of water,
 
like turning into music.

 
 
100_3161
 
David Chorlton is a transplanted European, who has lived in Phoenix since 1978. His poems have appeared in many publications on- and off-line, and reflect his affection for the natural world, as well as occasional bewilderment at aspects of human behavior. His most recent book, A Field Guide to Fire, was his contribution to the Fires of Change exhibition shown in Flagstaff and Tucson in Arizona.
 
 
 
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Windows, Doors, And Walls . An Ekphrastic Poem by Howard Richard Debs

 
 
h.r.debs.windows Photo by H.R. Debs
 
Here looking out the window, drawing back the drapery
to see through the pane, depending on the day,
squinting to view the dazzling light of a new morning
or seeing rain pouring down on the street below.
Sometimes it starts with rain, the day I think about
staring out the window, will I find myself today?
I can stay at the window or go to the door.
 
The door is closed until I open it and walk
out onto the sidewalk, bright with sunlight or
 
wet beneath my feet from the early
morning rain. I stand and scan
all that surrounds
me as I seize the day,
searching for a sign within the
compass of my shadow
on the pavement very far
from a place I can call home.
 
The walls I encounter walking on my way,
they are all around to make me stop
and wonder where next to go while still
seeking a telling sign, the walls
change my course, shift my direction.
 
Along the way doors open to new worlds within
should I enter upon such invitations—
 
and other doors lead to nowhere
and if I dare turn
 
toward a route that
takes me to what
appears ahead
I will find myself
in a place beyond
where I am here now
and given time, I will
meander amid the
windows, doors, and walls h.r.debs Photo by H.R. Debs
there in a place
I can call home.

 
 
hr debs portrail
 
 
Howard Richard Debs received a University of Colorado Poetry Prize at age 19. After spending the past fifty years in the field of communications, with recognitions including a Distinguished Achievement Award from the Educational Press Association of America, he has recently resumed his literary pursuits, and his latest work appears or is forthcoming in Calliope, Big River Poetry Review, Poetica Magazine, Eclectica Magazine, Misfitmagazine, Star 82 Review, Belle Reve Literary Journal, Verse-Virtual, Dialogual, Sediments Literary-Arts Journal, Remarkable Doorways Literary Magazine, Indiana Voice Journal, Blue Bonnet Review, China Grove, Yellow Chair Review, and On Being, among others.
 
His background in photography goes back many years, both creative and technical, and his photography will be found in select publications, including in Rattle online as “Ekphrastic Challenge” artist and guest editor. Born and bred in Chicago, he now lives in sunny South Florida with his wife of 50 years Sheila, where they spend considerable time spoiling their four grandchildren. Author listing Poets & Writers Directory https://www.pw.org/content/howard_debs
Author website: http://communicatorsandcommunications.com/muse-ings/

 
 
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Withdrawn. An Ekphrastic Poem by Richard Lloyd Cederberg

 
 
Ekphrastic – composed with triolets
 
“It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth”
 
WITHDRAWN
 
I’m not the one I used to be
Who broke the rules and pushed the bar
Who never wavered, can’t you see
I’m not the one I used to be
But now since much has changed in me
I’ll dream but never go too far
I’m not the one I used to be
Who broke the rules and pushed the bar
 
 
I’m not someone of naïve quest
Espousing all that’s given me
Nurturing all my hearts unrest
I’m not someone of naïve quest
But if I’ve not somehow possessed
The art of sweet simplicity
I’m not someone of naïve quest
Espousing all that’s given me
 
 
I’m not the one I used to see
In stirring flames and mountain streams
Artless on a raging sea
I’m not the one I used to see
But if I’ve struggled just to be
A somber shawl of unsung dreams
I’m not the one I used to see
In stirring flames and mountain streams
 
 
I’ve become withdrawn with age
Beguiled with simple fare
Inspired more to disengage
I’ve become withdrawn with age
Nevermore to war and rage
Against this life unfair
I’ve become withdrawn with age
Beguiled with simple fare
 
 
richard lloyd cederberg 2015

Richard Cedeburg(ii)
 
August 2007 Richard was nominated for a 2008 PUSHCART PRIZE. Richard was awarded 2007 BEST NEW FICTION at CST for his first three novels and also 2006 WRITER OF THE YEAR @thewritingforum.net … Richard has been a featured Poet on Poetry Life and Times Aug/Sept 2008, Jan 2013, Aug 2013, and Oct 2013 and has been published in varied anthologies, compendiums, and e-zines. Richard’s literary work is currently in over 35,000 data bases and outlets. Richard’s novels include: A Monumental Journey… In Search of the First Tribe… The Underground River… Beyond Understanding. A new novel, Between the Cracks, was completed March 2014 and will be available summer 2014.
 
Richard has been privileged to travel extensively throughout the USA, the provinces of British Columbia, Manitoba, Alberta, and Saskatchewan in Canada, the Yukon Territories, Kodiak Island, Ketchikan, Juneau, Skagway, Sitka, Petersburg, Glacier Bay, in Alaska, the Azorean Archipelagoes, and throughout Germany, Switzerland, Spain, and Holland… Richard and his wife, Michele, have been avid adventurers and, when time permits, still enjoy exploring the Laguna Mountains, the Cuyamaca Mountains, the High Deserts in Southern California, the Eastern Sierra’s, the Dixie National Forest, the Northern California and Southern Oregon coastlines, and the “Four Corners” region of the United States.
 
Richard designed, constructed, and operated a MIDI Digital Recording Studio – TAYLOR and GRACE – from 1995 – 2002. For seven years he diligently fulfilled his own musical visions and those of others. Richard personally composed, and multi-track recorded, over 500 compositions during this time and has two completed CD’s to his personal credit: WHAT LOVE HAS DONE and THE PATH. Both albums were mixed and mastered by Steve Wetherbee, founder of Golden Track Studios in San Diego, California.
 
Richard retired from music after performing professionally for fifteen years and seven years of recording studio explorations. He works, now, at one of San Diego’s premier historical sites, as a Superintendent. Richard is also a carpenter and a collector of classic books, and books long out of print.

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Crucifixion. Ekphrastic Poem. Neil Ellman

crucifixion
 
 

(after the triptych by Francis Bacon, 1965)
 
 
I
 
 
After it is eaten
all is the same in the belly
of the crucifix
once a man
chewed, digested and spit out
misshapen remains
without a name or memory
without ascent.
 
 
II
 
 
Make a mockery
of sinew, muscle and flesh
sliced open and re-arranged
an offal pile
where there was a soul
now none
where there was compassion
now retribution
on a butcher’s hook.
 
 
III
 
 
Unrecognizable
even to myself
a victim of the my own conceit
I demanded providence
and was reduced to this
a torture of the flesh–
Oh, Lords of the Rack and Chain,
why have you forsaken me.


 
 
 
 
Neil Ellman jpg
 
 

Biography: Nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, Neil Ellman writes from New Jersey. More than 1000 of his poems, many of which are ekphrastic and written in response to works of modern and contemporary art, appear in print and online journals, anthologies and chapbooks throughout the world. His first full-length collection is Parallels: Selected Ekphrastic Poetry, 2009-2012 (Omphaloskeptic Press).

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…Whose Name Was Writ in Water. Ekphrastic Poem. Neil Ellman

(after the painting by Willem de Kooning)

It is his whose name
was writ in the calligraphy
of swirling, arching waves
without the eyes and ears
spurs and tails
of word or sound
in human alphabets
where no one heard him speak
the language of the sea
his sermon on the mount
of turbulence
whose name is lost—
he proclaimed dominion
over tide and time
then sank alone into a sea
of disregard.

Whose Name was Writ on Water

Biography: Nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, Neil Ellman writes from New Jersey. More than 850 of his poems, many of which are ekphrastic and written in response to works of modern and contemporary art, appear in print and online journals, anthologies and chapbooks throughout the world. His first full-length collection is Parallels: Selected Ekphrastic Poetry, 2009-2012 (Omphaloskeptic Press).

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