(after Tall Yellow Man, 2003, Stephen Bird, Wollongong Art Gallery)
(Dear reader, the layout of this poem is important — I did my best with wordpress, but if words go a wandering on your screen, it’s available here as a pdf).
1.
in the long blue
from the mud of southern Iraq
he made prototypes to test
though glazed & fired, he never
so propped by the Dulux tins & rakes
they never wondered
2.
put the Ma pot atop the Da pot
a ruined cup for great great gran-da
-station, now lies abed in Acacia Creek
3.
I touch earth
the shimmer of water
iron oxide sludge
Imperial yellows of China
coathanger shoulders
of woman-bowls
rich as rice pudding.
before god made adam
[take clay in hands, cup]
scapular, anvil, flexor.
said the necessary words,
unensouled
what it was to be made.
firm feet to the cloudplate
stack ancestor urns accordingly.
glazed in Queensland dust, sheep-
a bullet shaped to a forehead.
creek-bed of memory
the glitter of zirconium
tin-glazed majolica
Staffordshire slipware.
bobble-heads. Lustre
frowns & brows
for a lovely bowl / let’s arrange these flowers…for there is no rice. [1]
fit finches in a gravy boat
sons learn the songs of their fathers
rollicking chorus: beep, meep, oi! a-ha!
with little variation; daughters don’t.
Bird muses
his eyes —
see: a hardwood floor
a blue sink (disconnected)
4.
take whatever’s to hand
newspaper slogans
creation won’t wait
squalling & rolling
5.
the street is a surprise
construction sites,
in green whorls
a jade cup
changing frames
that Duchamp may have
appropriated
kitchen stuff
a sweater from the floor.
it leans to life
onto the page
traffic, brilliance
men cursing
a butter dish
a fire extinguisher
from the Men’s room.
nouns
cutting through cawl
in a bloody rush.
the afternoon build-up
the heat of La Nina.
the city, as if we’ve taken whatever’s to hand —
bricks eucalypts a yellow fascia a fountain a teapot
— & left it there for someone else to read.
[1]Matsuo Basho (1644-1694) –
Here’s Stephen Bird’s sculpture – Tall Yellow Man – which is currently on exhibition at the Wollongong Art Gallery You can read more about Stephen at his official website. I’ve also linked this to Dverse, where Grace is hosting the bar and asks us to use imagery or personification in our writing.
And for because it’s wonderful here’s Orphan Girl by Gillian Welch from her album Revival .
Peter Frankis writes 
A fantastic and very different kind of seasonal poem which I think demands many readings and I will return to reread for sure!
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Yes, I totally agree, Ingrid – this poem blows my mind, and I’ve read it three times already… and I plan to read it again!
-David
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I checked out the PDF, and actually the formatting seems to have worked on WP. I bet that took ages, though. The formatting drives me mad.
Such a great cascade of images – the clay running through it – such a rich seam. I love this poem.
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Yep WP doesn’t care for us poets. 😐 Thanks so much – glad you liked.
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Your Tall Yellow Poem is stunning, Peter, as is the artwork that inspired it. I love the exploration of colour, the traces of history, the layout and the different ways it can be read. It is indeed a poem to return to.
Strangely enough, I’ve been listening to a programme on Radio 4 about colour, pigments and elements, and last week it was about blue, specifically lapis lazuli, and this week it was about yellow.
Some of my favourite lines:
‘coathanger shoulders
of woman-bowls
rich as rice pudding’
and
‘creek-bed of memory
the glitter of zirconium
tin-glazed majolica
Staffordshire slipware’.
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Thanks so much Kim, I sat and stared at this piece for ages and eventually I got it (I think). He’s a wonderful artist (and my crappy photos don’t do the work justice).
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It’s easier to read on the pdf. Definitely one to go back to and read again, picking out the different squares. So much clay and yellow and sunshine!
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Thanks Jane – yes the piece is a collection of bits and bobs.
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Fragments that you might have picked up on holiday or walking through a history book.
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My goodness this is absolutely breathtaking, Peter! I admire the hard work behind this poem 😍 and especially love; “take whatever’s to hand newspaper slogans, kitchen stuff
a sweater from the floor, nouns, creation won’t wait squalling & rolling, it leans to life
onto the page, cutting through cawl in a bloody rush.” 👏👏
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This is totally fascinating …. wonderfully inventive. I did go to the PDF. I love the names of OZ cities, I have a friend who was raised in Mooloolaba!
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Thanks Helen, I reckon most Aussie place names are mis-hearings from the Indigenous folk map makers encountered on their travels.
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I did read this in pdf and this is an amazing poetry. I admire how I can read this is snippets but my eyes wander towards the end of the line, and it comes to me with such vivid colors and images. This is a gem to read tonight Peter.
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Complex, visual, visceral ekphrasis. By the end I was half convinced the art had been done for the poem, and not the other way around.
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Wow… this is great poetry… the Basho haiku weaved in between all those fantastic images… particularly loved the Duchamp reference which I assume most men can relate to.
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¨BTW … I had not heard the original version of Orphan Girl… but I did listen a lot to Emmilou Harris version on Wrecking ball.
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The whole album ‘Revival’ (and everything Gillian does) is fantastic.
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Wonderfully bright descriptive pottery, Peter. For me, it reminds vivid places, hustle and bustle in a marketplace where humanity comes to life.
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wow… just, wow.
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