Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Andi Balise combined a half page of a short story, “Thanks Going Without Saying” by Liz Balise, with half a page of an essay by Klee, “On Modern Art”, from a book called Modern Artists on Art, 10 Unabridged Essays, edited by Robert L. Herbert. With some small edits and line-breaks comes this miracle of a poem: Painting a Function Different I peek out over the railing of reality’s magic Beyond the porch-floor Minerva hangs her wash making the invisible visible Eighty two and three quarters deaf she doesn’t notice   But this is, in fact, reality Has always been this way— Bent and bird-like existence   Balanced on two twigs—always busy— Her task, is the *********** of space   Cutting coupons, crushing aluminum cans, ironing The three phenomena which I must.... Things no one notices— climbing on the abstract surface of a picture Switching the curtains   God! I wish from the infinity of space..she wouldn’t…! It figures that— Rusty, her cat, is weaving in fortune or misfortune   I try to fix them— Her ankles now And she curses at accidental quality from the corner of her mouth which has only one form Clothespin or cigarette?   Long johns and animals and men in heaven and bureau scarf and sheets—all, non-infinite deities surround us translucent, contained    I decide what to get for her birthday— We are good friends through painting a function different For me? Predestined necessity. Minerva? forgets her manners and eats like a survivor— Thanks going without saying.
0
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 2:12 PM UTC
Painting a Function Different
Andi Balise combined a half page of a short story, “Thanks Going Without Saying” by Liz Balise, with half a page of an essay by Klee, “On Modern Art”, from a book called Modern Artists on Art, 10 Unabridged Essays, edited by Robert L. Herbert. With some small edits and line-breaks comes this miracle of a poem: Painting a Function Different I peek out over the railing of reality’s magic Beyond the porch-floor Minerva hangs her wash making the invisible visible Eighty two and three quarters deaf she doesn’t notice   But this is, in fact, reality Has always been this way— Bent and bird-like existence   Balanced on two twigs—always busy— Her task, is the *********** of space   Cutting coupons, crushing aluminum cans, ironing The three phenomena which I must.... Things no one notices— climbing on the abstract surface of a picture Switching the curtains   God! I wish from the infinity of space..she wouldn’t…! It figures that— Rusty, her cat, is weaving in fortune or misfortune   I try to fix them— Her ankles now And she curses at accidental quality from the corner of her mouth which has only one form Clothespin or cigarette?   Long johns and animals and men in heaven and bureau scarf and sheets—all, non-infinite deities surround us translucent, contained    I decide what to get for her birthday— We are good friends through painting a function different For me? Predestined necessity. Minerva? forgets her manners and eats like a survivor— Thanks going without saying.
Thank you to my friend, Minerva for those years we shared living by the river. And thanks, to my daughter, Andi, for seeing this poem in an academic assignment. Art is what it is, imploring us to touch its experience.... It asks no approval. It seldom gives reasons.
Written by
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 2:12 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem