Ekphrastic

  Archaic Torso of Apollo by Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926) translated from German by Mary Jane Myers We'll never know his head, its mythic fame, the fiery ripening-apple eyes, although his torso casts a candelabra’s glow, the gaze now dialed down to a lower flame, its gleam preserved. Or else...

  Three Kittens Went to Kitten-Garten Three kittens in kitten-garten. Whose teacher was a dog. They had to write their answers In their daily log. The dog would ask the kittens, “Are you ready now?” Each kitten had to answer, “Meow, meow, meow.” They boned up on their math, Then...

  On An Old Photograph It was late fall of 1944. Dad was back from Italy, on leave, When no one dreamt the Bulge would soon explode, Or that an A-bomb waited in the works, Or that a world was crumbling while they smiled, Sure that the war would wind...

  Clonmacnoise (Cluain Mhic Nóis) Rocky gray ruins, round tower stronghold, speckling a wide expanse of green, residuum of a fabled scene: fine flourishment of monasteries, communes in strict ascetic mold, launched by godly visionaries. Saint Ciaran found this perfect site: the Shannon meets a key trade route. High kings...

. Esperanza Enticing in her yellow-bell couture, __She shimmers like the sun. With flirty puffs of pollen-pomp allure, __Her blossoms trumpet fun. She laces air with threads of scent as pure __As pledges heaven-spun--- She glows with hope on nimbostratus days. She bolsters butterflies and busies bees __With flowery prowess....

. Archaic Torso of Apollo by Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926) translated from German by Josh Olson We cannot know that enigmatic head in which his eyes once ripened. Even so, his torso bears a candelabra glow, wherein the rays his downturned glances shed hold fast and shine. Thus, you are...

. Young Catherine’s Vision ---on St. Catherine of Siena Invested with the Dominican Habit by Giovanni di Paola A maiden kneels on gray da Torre stone. Save for a crucifix, the room is bare. Her thighs seem formed of otherworldly bone; her anorexic body drifts on air. As if in...

. Genevieve Perhaps those languid eyes are looking up At angels hymning in the dove-grey sky, So soft and saccharine (and fluent in Provincial French) to give her haloed head A tilt insouciante and pull her lips Into a supermodel pout. It’s prayer Perhaps that’s brought the crimson to her...

. Healing by Heart Dear André, let me see your face And cry out with you to lament The rot of flesh and foul disgrace You suffer, ulcered hands unbent. Your body needs rebirth that’s meant To cure your soul of leprosy: Accept from the Omnipotent Clear light in which...

. A Ballad of Life ---after Winslow Homer's "Through the Fields" They spoke of life unfolding, A future far from home. No more of country living--- No fields, no farms, no loam. And so, they left for college, But still they kept in touch With letters always ending, "I miss...

. At the Ready ---Distant Thunder, Andrew Wyeth (USA), 1961 The coming storm won’t let young Rattler lie asleep, but he’s not ready yet to wake her up. It’s quiet now but the pale sky is turning gray. He squints his eyes to take the whole horizon in. Her coffee...

. Rattler ---inspired by Master Bedroom, Andrew Wyeth, 1965 The walls and windows unadorned, the bedkept neatly made, the blanket smooth as cream,two feather pillows, perfect for his headto rest against, eyes closed so he can dream, an empty saucer on the window’s sill,a lonesome pine framed by nine clear...

. The Adoration of the Peacock ---on The Adoration of the Magi by Fra Angelico and Fra Filippo Lippi The world is a-gawk at a gaudy surprise, for kings walk on foot while the commoners ride, and I, though a Peacock with feathers on high, fold them up and sit...

. On Learning of a Lover’s Death Your parting words were not exactly nice, But when I read the news that you had died, At least for old times’ sake, I should have cried. I haven’t—yet. Is that a crime? Suffice To say upon a time we loved, made love,...

. A Remarkable Day "He's God in human form!" whispers the crowd In motley clothes and groups of twos and threes Beneath the bulky, partly-aqua sky. As nighttime slowly drops, birds meet the breeze And soar towards the heavens, grand and proud. Under the shanty's thatched roof sits a mother....

. Lady Agnew of Lochnaw, Loved by the Viewer and the Baronet The lady wanted prettiness and style. (The artist wanted pounds.) The chintz Gave both her wants. A “quizzical half-smile” Invites a conversation, or it hints At that. Chiffon hides shoulders, who knows why? Her breasts are also secret...

. Jehu Destroys the Temple and Statue of Baäl "—What did that madman want?" ---2 Kings 9:11 He saw Jehu Destroys the Temple and Statue of Baäl, the print by Maarten van Heemskerck of darkness to appall. He saw the flames inside the Temple—from windows pouring forth— the headless form...

. Bright Light, Some City "It's probably a reflection of my own, if I may say, loneliness. I don't know. It could be the whole human condition." — Edward Hopper on "Morning Sun" Why does it matter that the sun has seemedto seek her out as she awakes abovethe morning...

. Endless Dreaming a villanelle I lunge ahead in bed and start to scream. The nightmare’s end is far; I’m still inside A dream within a dream within a dream. I fall out my front door at heights extreme (Since now my house sits on a mountainside); I lunge ahead...

. Three Views of Venus "When you’ve got a goddess, make good use of her. —local guide, Green Velvet Bedchamber at Houghton Hall, Norfolk “Ah, Mars, my dear, lay down that spear, and wage Love in the tender tenor of our way. Disarm, and let me have the upper hand...

. The Sultan’s Aging Son Recalls the Hippo Hunt “The Hippopotamus Hunt” by Peter Paul Rubens, c. 1615-1616 “The sultan sent three sons…” His voice is frail; the boys lean in. “On horseback, battle bound, we marched with two barbarians to the sound of barking curs at our feet and a distant...

. Easter Evening Appearance Luke 24 Sealed up within my upper room, Absorbed by morbid discontent And fear, I questioned everything I’ve done and wondered what it meant. Though slim perspective chided me And better angels gently mocked, When I’m alone there in that room, The door is pretty firmly...

. Two Ekphrastic Poems . The Light of the World, Holman Hunt As predawn darkness shrouds the land, With warm-lit lantern in his hand The risen Jesus stands before A rusted, weed-choked, shuttered door And knocks, and waits, in hope that he— Before the night has passed—might be Invited in...

. . Massacre of the Innocents Matt. 2:18, 10:28, 18:10; Psalm 116:15; 2 Mac. 7:29 Why are the fish and fruit stands closed today— Too many soldiers, stationed all around. My God, they’re pulling out their swords! I hear A shriek from Rachel’s mouth, and thud upon The ground. I...

. Two Dragon Statues Tây Hồ, Hà Nội, Việt Nam, Constructed 2012 They stand on waves just off West Lake’s west bank— two dragon statues—jade ceramic gods commemorating when the Emperor beheld a soaring dragon, Heaven’s sign that Thăng Long should be made the capital, which doomed Hoa Lư, the...

. Phil S. Rogers captured these photos of a roadrunner seeking relief in his sprinkler during drought-like conditions in Texas. Phil's ekphrastic poem is below. Add yours in the comments. . A Summer Shower One hundred four degrees today, __Texas is parched and charred, a lack of rain has baked...

. Something Higher the brown scapular of Elijah Departures and arrivals. Passengers. The life of one old man describes an arc: A sudden collapse from sitting. Messengers, Come lift my weight, grown lighter than a lark, The height we rise to not the length I fell But something higher. Seated...

. My Favourite Photo of Mum I’ve just found my favourite photo of Mum, standing in the snow of a new century in the back garden; her sweater’s bottle-blue, her smile an ad for British dentistry. Sleeves rolled up, stood beside a wooden fence, she acts as if she’s conjured...

. Quattrocento On the Fresco “Madonna del Parto” by Piero della Francesca, Monterchi, Italy, circa 1460 We file into a silent darkened room. Now, a stagelight floods the wall to show bright colors of a rediscovered fresco. Our eyes adapt to preternatural gloom. Twin angels grasp a fur-lined tent, reveal...

. A Picture of Repose A young boy’s seated on a wall that overlooks Capri, an oil painting by Dane Peter Vilhelm Carl Kyhn, where a rock ridge arises over architextured walls, with arches, domes and towers over roof and mason sprawl. The landscape artist captured a sweet momentary peace,...

. Old Orphan They’re over on my dresser, simply framed And looking 1940s fresh and young. There’s something to them holy and unnamed, Some song inside them waiting to be sung. And I their youngest, young no more at all, On days I feel a bit the worse for wear,...

. . On Alma Tadema’s Coign of Vantage Flora peeks over the marble parapet, a dizzying perch above the azure Aegean. The Roman fleet is returning. 'Tis the season to flirt, to catch a lover in her net. Julia and Livia stand close, her bosom friends. Tomorrow they’ll break their...

. See the painting more closely here. Eden The newborn world is all aswirl with beasts Obedient who, as God specified, Have duly fruitful been, have multiplied And claim laid to the garden west to east. Their prowl for food and flesh knows no surcease; With feral instinct so preoccupied...

. On Ford Madox Brown's "The Last of England" Their balcony beringed with cabbages, They fix their eyes on the receding shore And blankly call to mind the ravages Now past and wonder at the ones in store. The Channel’s unrelenting winds upsoar Magenta ribbons into bloody streaks, While he,...

. This photo comes to us from Joshua C. Frank of Texas. Write an ekphrastic poem based on it and post it in the comments section below. . .

. Tapestry My grandfather Evangelos did trading with the Turks Of pipes and hookahs, hash, and cloths, and skillful carpet-works. A tapestry he gave his wife in Main in nineteen-ten, A secular non-Muslim piece, showed animals and men. In foreground, street-scene, shops and people, harnessed camel clear, A palm, a...

. The Angelus, Jean-François Millet (Musée d’Orsay) How soft across the field the muted peal Has caromed off the setting sun, the air September-ripe, the earth upturned, a pair Preoccupied with what it might reveal, And calls them to a place of mute appeal. He stabs his pitchfork in the...

. Who Bled When all is said and life be trod, One takeaway the Son of God Made clear, when rising from the dead? The winner here's the Guy who bled. . . Alec Ream is a writer living in Virginia. His poetic work and creative fiction have been widely published....

. Moments in Marble from Michelangelo’s sculptures; above from left are depicted Dusk, Dawn, Night, and Day Day hustles up, impelled to humanize His world of work by wary energy, To make hours grow, outstripping blowzy noon, With muscles rippling out of royal rest Unneeded, once it ripens reasoned thought,...

. Apollo’s Lament He pounds his naked chest and looks for bones Suspecting that the bay tree is a sham. At last he falls upon his knees and moans “My little doe, my tender dove, my lamb!” He scans the forest but he knows the truth: His longed-for Daphne has...