poetry critical

online poetry workshop



The Jewish Painter
larrylark

Here’s a resurrected story
 1
that’s long been buried deep,
 2
a spectral visions message saved,
 3
from a spirit out beyond the grave.
 4
 
 
 
 
“Keep this safe its my whole worth,
 5
bare record of an ending journey.
 6
What emerges is that love survives,
 7
in an image that portrays my life.”
 8
 
 
 
 
1940
 9
 
 
Some said a vivacious nature,
 10
gained her place at The Academy of Arts,
 11
where she sat drinking large brandy tinctures,
 12
“No talent at all but it comes from the heart.”
 13
 
 
 
 
“Keep this safe its my whole being
 14
disguised in this stiff paper bag.
 15
Thrown down with the discarded unseeing,
 16
each with their own number tag.”
 17
 
 
“My paintings are skewed,
 18
their harsh outlines sketched in pink.
 19
Dancing on the tight wires edge,
 20
of a life that’s balanced on the brink.”
 21
 
 
 
 
“Keep this safe its my hearts revealing,
 22
I steal through nightmares but I’m not sleeping.”
 23
 
 
 
 
 
 
1941
 24
 
 
Tyranny’s dark cloud is smothering the earth.
 25
My brush with life is transient, a brief journey from my birth.
 26
Sharing ground with likened souls, entering different doors,
 27
flickering shadows kaleidoscope across the chambers floor.
 28
 
 
Take this image dancing, sealed in dark brown wrapping paper,
 29
washed out sepia colours turning slowly into vapour.
 30
My identity? A number tag, scratched on the reverse,
 31
for perversity rides the devil with a message short and terse.
 32
 
 
I claim the right to every life,
 33
All you desire on earth.
 34
Love that gave your dream its hope,
 35
|I’ll strangle at its birth.
 36
 
 
 
 
1943
 37
 
 
My thoughts have been recorded within these picture frames.
 38
Empty outlines coloured in, my shadows have no names.
 39
Brute force draws on nearer, marching through the rain,
 40
A final frantic message, “I can’t begin again.”
 41
 
 
“Seated in the centre of storms,
 42
alone amidst this tortured landscape.
 43
My desire is to paint its many forms
 44
gives me strength they will never break.”
 45
 
 
“We are caught in a cold hysteria of lies.
 46
A theatrical presentations where each victims never cries.
 47
Others now will come to seal my fate,
 48
All I can do is paint my life and wait.”
 49
 
 
The van came in the middle of the night,
 50
Her screams turned people over in their beds,
 51
As a vibrant soul escaped up to the skies,
 52
lifeless body thrown down among the dead.
 53
 
 
In much later years I visited that place,
 54
Rain fell through distant days when fates were cast.
 55
Each footsteps kicked up dust into my face,
 56
gate and shuttered windows were all turned towards the past
 57

6 Jan 13


(define the words in this poem)
(947 more poems by this author)



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