Monday, May 10, 2010

No Waiting for Godot...


Three POEMS for May -






In this brief quiet space between a new Ellicott City feature (an artist or place downtown), here are three poems covering a time span of thirty years:


Or Ariadne
Once around the nighting pale,
Medieval limned for love's sake
our orbing mouths frolicking long,

And Dorinda spinning
her blank sheets,
sterile as the sun,

We sang our songs
while old Dorinda spun
her lucid webs
in our dim lighting
to show us how it really was.
When close came bright-skinned dawn,
clothed still in our naked thoughts,
we went running to her wheel,
to turn it 'round and 'round,

We found Dorinda dreaming
counting slowly backward
in her sleep,
the once-tight threads
loose blown and raveling,

Her garment almost gone.
Kay Weeks, 1973
_______________


The Woodturner

I can see now
how close to carpentry it is,
how sawdust has to fly
to make a bowl.

I can see now
how it works around,
how in the end,
the product’s more:


Something plain,
something sound,
something finely turned--
a round, exquisite vessel!

I can see now
how close to artistry it is:
How unlike you,
how unlike me,
how unlike it is
we are.




Kay Weeks
c. 1973, rev. April, 2010

Note: “The meticulous process includes selecting suitable fallen trees in the woods, rolling them out, curing (which takes many months), sculpting on the lathe, sanding, and finishing. A minimum 40-50 hours work is required per piece”. Studio of Robert Gray, Art of the Mountains, Colorado. This bowl is made of Aspen.


______________


Adoth

I thought I had been here before--
Like a repetition of thought,
Of hope or dreams, you know,
Bad habits. But I wasn’t sure.
Maybe it was Nepenthe?
We drove together,
And, as always, I was alone
In my thoughts, and you
Gone somewhere, in yours.
Maybe to Camp Nye
Or some canyon.
So when we got there,
Connected momentarily
By surprise, we talked about
At how the place had changed,
Grown up, grown old,
Without our knowing--
We closed our eyes.
The old diner,
Warm and alive, was gone;
There were only a few people
in sight; and we swore Adoth
Emitted a kind of ghostly presence--
Only a shadow of its former,
You know, Self—if a place can be a Self.
We agreed it could.
A convenience store was there,
And I recall you filled up the tank
As if it were a longing mouth,
Then pulled out and headed
Into that murky sunset.
All quiet now again between us,
And the next place so far away.
Kay Weeks 11.09. rev.2.5.10






1 comment:

Jill said...

"There were only a few people
in sight; and we swore Adoth
Emitted a kind of ghostly presence--
Only a shadow of its former,
You know, Self—if a place can be a Self.
We agreed it could"

Last summer we stayed at a Historic bed and breakfast in Galveston, Texas. Hurricane Ike had left the coastal town naked and a bit sad. This phrase describes the sensation perfectly. Thank you.-jill