Sunday, January 24, 2016

Reinventing The Scream

How agreeable it is to live
under a blue sky.
To watch garden roses budding
and crimping; fragrant hybrids
unfolding their cream/carmine skirts
into a garden system 
of care and sunshine.
How terrible then, an expression on a face,
standing on a bridge, swirl of dark water beneath,
a red sky full of pain. And so many
steadfast hours going into the work
of a silent, yet unsettling scream.
Nothing about Edvard Munch’s scene
will ever change. Yet I want to reinvent
that unhappy face. Lower hands to pockets,
zero in with a pencil-point of smile.
Bridge gone, water gone, a swirl of blue
should enliven Machiavellian thought.
I want the screamer, nosey as a ladybird,
bum up, inhaling an Iceberg rose.
The view should be this urban garden
where rough beds thirst
and a stocky Butcherbird on the tippy
buoyancy of a branch turns,
catching that depressive moment
an instant before the scream.

An Ekphrastic poem inspired by The Scream by Edvard Munch, 1893, Oil, tempera, pastel and crayon on cardboard. Dimensions 91 cm × 73.5 cm (36 in × 28.9 in). Location: National Gallery, Oslo, Norway


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Published by Australian Poetry Centre, Melbourne

of Arc & Shadow

of Arc & Shadow
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The Joyous Lake

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