This week's prompt is from Tad:
OK, something a little different. Here's a story I'm intrigued by. A medical secretary in Paris, for the past 20 years, has been asking famous photographers to photograph her, and she has created her own art project -- over a hundred portraits of herself, nude or clothed, by different well-known photographers.
If you want to read more about her, it's here.
But write a poem somehow inspired by her. Imagine being her, or photographing her, or fucking her, or think about what it means to turn yourself into an art form, or just tell her story. I know this is a little weird, but I am a little weird, and sometimes I like to shake things up a little. And although I've told people to fucking stop writing them, this woman who's been photographed over and over might work for a pantoum.
Well, I had no idea how I was going to handle this one. But she had somehow stuck in my brain, and I figured if I foisted her on the rest of you, I'd force myself to somehow scratch that itch.
ReplyDeleteAnd since I'd given everyone permission, not that anyone needs it, to write a pantoum, I figured what the hell. I'd never written one, so why not? I know this breaks a few rules, but what the heck. Poetic license.
Isabelle Mège
She wove herself, like thread on a shuttle,
Into the story of a country’s art.
She was the weft that joined disparate strands,
The image that flickered through the tapestry.
What country tells the story of its art
Through a girl who makes no art herself?
Or does she? Is her image through the tapestry,
Flickering, enough to make a statement>
For a girl who makes no art herself
Except herself, in formal pose or naked,
To become, not object, but a statement
Naked or formal posed, what does it take?
What does it take in formal pose or naked?
What more than be the weft? Disparate strands,
Naked, formal—why but art to take
And weave oneself, oneself become the shuttle?
very pretty poem but (and I could be wrong) not a true pantoum. you shape nice images and saw it much differently than I did.
DeleteYes, the words are pretty but, you took a lot of liberty with the form, pantoum. Once you take the liberty it no longer is the form, it becomes a poem. It's like a sonnet. If you end it with 4 lines rather than 2, it is no longer a sonnet but a poem that resembles a sonnet.
DeleteI was very uncertain about what to think about this woman, and the poem is really about that uncertainty, and I started feeling that there was a certainty about the strict form of the pantoum that didn't go with what I was trying to do. That's also why added more repetition at the 2-4 lines of the penultimate stanza -- naked, formal, formal naked -- to suggest that even though the confusion seems to resolve itself in the last two lines, it's really not resolved at all. Unless maybe it is.
DeleteIt was an interesting prompt in that it made for thinking. TO me her art is that of performance art, and a legitimate one at that. I recently watched a video of a woman who did this only her activities were more bizarre, and yes, photographed. It's a genre.
DeleteTo Tad, I am confused about you somewhat. I was under the impression that you were a teacher of poetry. But, you said you don't have much experience with the form pantoum...it is a absolutely great form, Tad and you are right it is strict. But they turn out like songs (number one) if you watch the rhythm and they will write themselves just like free form if you get a good start. It would be a fun challenge for you to write 50
DeleteSorry about the bad grammar, my computer sticks while I am typing and misses letters and commas...and I did not proof this msg.
DeleteI have taught poetry, but teaching it doesn’t mean that you are actually going to write poems in every form ever devised. There are many teachers who, in their own work, write free verse and stay away from form altogether. I have written a fair amount of formal verse, and have actually invented a couple of forms, but I’d never tried writing a pantoum before. In this case, I decided right from the beginning that I’d write variations on the repeated lines. As I said earlier, the poem is about uncertainty. This woman had made herself a part of contemporary French cultural history, but what part? She was doing something that hadn’t been done before, which was kinda creative, but she herself wasn’t exactly creating anything. Or was she? So I decided I couldn’t just repeat the line “Into the story of a country’s art,” I needed to turn it around and question it. And once having made that decision, I was more or less committed to doing that, to twisting the repeated lines. I did stick with a regular iambic pentameter, and with the restriction of four stanzas.
DeleteWho's the loveliest of them all
ReplyDeletetake another photo please
of me! Daring, bold and beautiful
that's me! do you see, I'm art
Take another photo please
so I can share myself
that's me! do you see, I'm art
I first pose one way then I turn
so I can share myself
every inch of me radiates appeal
I first pose one way then I turn
You may admire me, you may touch
every inch of me radiate appeal
my beauty grows with each new day
you may admire me, you may touch
strike the right note, you may fuck me
my beauty grows with each new day
my face is flawless, my body taut
strike the right note, you may fuck me
I will give you my Madonna smile
my face is flawless, my body taut
that's me! Do you see, I'm art
I will give you my Madonna smile
Who's the loveliest of all?
I
well done pantoum... you do seem to flatter this over inflated ego but then I guess perhaps I'm alone in my feelings even though you said your sentiments exactly your poem says the opposite. it is a lovely write so again.. well done.
DeleteThere is an assumption here that the woman who does this is egoistic, however there could be other reasons to do it, don't you think? Art for arts sake might not be. Check out an artist who calls herself Marina Abramovicz I think I have spelled it right, but the approximation would give you the web info. Her form of art is using her body in a variety of ways to express her feelings about things, especially politics, and usually yes,though not always nude. Fascinating film.
Deletereminded me of the same woman bonita's poem reminded me of wolfie. is it possible for a woman to be too beautiful for her own good? i prefer chubby women in glasses and shapeless cardigans, slightly clumsy, with ill fitting shoes nowadays. oh, a lisp and odd habits helps too - love paul.
DeleteHot digity dog!!! Yep! My sentiments exactly. A narcissistic, sociopath is what I was thinking and what you wrote about...terrific!
ReplyDeleteThere are other ways to see this woman, and you have chosen the one that reflects how you see her, for sure.
ReplyDeleteMy Many Faces
ReplyDeleteThe outside of me plays many parts,
trying on faces and costumes
I become who I am in each moment.
All of me is present in these parts.
I am a jigsaw puzzle put together
as I am viewed, then dissolved
into the surrounding scene
with the passing of each moment.
Momentarily as I am viewed
I become part of each viewer.
What they see is how they see me
I am a reflection of their minds.
Who I am is unimportant to me
I am that which they see as my self
Yet my self is hidden within
my body, the image of me.
moment momentarily.. overused and detracts from the flow of the lines. one good line.. I am a jigsaw puzzle … but completed would read better than put together. the poem seems redundant throughout
Deletegets more complicated every time i read it tash. i'm a jigsaw puzzle with a few pieces missing - love paul.
DeleteI enjoyed the gentle flow of this poem...it seemed to rock and have a unique beat all it's own.
DeleteI like this a lot, and I think it could be even better. I’d like to see you go back over it, and think, for each line or phrase, about whether this is something you’ve already said. And if it is, then find a way to push it farther.
ReplyDeleteSelf as Art
DeleteThe outside of me plays many parts,
trying on faces and costumes.
I am a jigsaw puzzle. As I am seen,
I become part of each viewer.
What they see is how they see me
I am a reflection of their thoughts.
Who I am is unimportant
I am that which they see.
How does this work for you, Tad and Bonnie? It's what I meant to say with all the excess pared away...or so I hope.
Deletemuch better!!!!! this reads better and makes more sense. this I like.
Deleteyea, I guess...
DeleteI think it’s a lot stronger. You’ve cut some lines that I liked, but that’s ok - good, in fact. Sometimes you have to cut things that are good, but the poem is still stronger without them. Changing “who I am is unimportant to me” to “who I am is unimportant” is a huge change, and a strong one.
DeleteWow. I read both versions and this could be an example of what editing can do. I like the last two lines of the first poem, but as Tad said, this is still stronger.
DeleteI appreciated the comment and am glad o work on any poem that merits that attention. Thanks, Tad for the guidance, and to the sisters, many thanks as always for your comments. .
Deletewhat the fuck happened to my poem! i don't come here to waste my time. somebody deleted it. as i explained i use the bottom button, but this site seems to be set up different in this country. i didn't make a fucking copy. gotta do it from memory. if this gets erazed i'm finished with this .
ReplyDeleteNOT AS CRAZY AS YOU THINK
sammie was a catalogue model
she did laungerie and shoes
the more she was photoed
the vainer she got
as beautiful as heaven and hell
she was mostly bad news
though tiny....always a heavy load
a very smart woman who liked a spanky on the bot.
paul I sent you 3 different text messages (which you chose to ignore) letting you know we were deleting your poem this time. you need to learn to respect the other poets. the only way your poem can end up in the reply box of another poet is if you press reply to that poem and use the box that opens up to post your poem...
Deletenow for your poem... well done! a good write that describes the narcissist perfectly. and any one who would pay to have 100's of photos of themselves taken and pretend it is art is a narcissist.
Good poem, well done and well said
Deletedidn't get the texts bonita and it wouldn't have mattered. sometimes the " add comment " thing just isn't there. what am i supposed to press when it disapears? erasing poetry is bad by any standards. you think if percy shelley had written in the wrong place it would be ok to tear up his stuff? not that i'm comparing myself to percy shelley. just making a point.
Deletethanks. yeah, she used to admire how beautiful she was in a full lenth mirror. wouldn't even go out unless her make up was perfect. lost her make up bag on the train once and almost had a nervous breakdown, while blaming me for it.....sigh! - love paul.
thanks tash. i still can't spell lingerae. i'd ask the library lady, but i'm embarressed ha ha - love paul.
Deleteare you comparing yourself to Percy Shelley? guffaw! guffaw! and I know you got the text messages but ignored them because you always responded to the text that followed in which I would ask if you were just ignoring the ones about your poem being deleted. you would respond to the rest of the message but ignore that part. and you even said Vic would be mad because you posted it in the wrong place. the comment box is at the very bottom of the page as it always has been and always will be. stop being lazy and scroll past all the posted poems and comments as you did this time and post in the open box at the end. do not hit reply to another poets poem. the only way it can get posted on another poets poem is if you hit reply. you know it and you do it intentionally. stop it.
DeleteI am the one who deleted your poem. I had taken the time to move it for the last three times. It really isn't fair to the person posting the poem for you to post in their comments. Every other person on this blog can figure it out. You can too. It seemed that because I was willing to move them you didn't try. Now that I deleted one, you managed to post two correctly. Funny about that.
DeleteAll that said, this is a good poem. I assume you mean "lingerie."
if you read what i said bonita i said " i'm not comparing myself to percy shelley. just making a point " and no. the comment box isn't always at the bottom of the page. not on this computer and not in this country anyway. sure you have better tech in america. why on earth would i deliberatly post in the wrong place?? i'm not stupid. and no. i didn't get the texts.
Deleteoh, this is the mirror image ( pun intended ) of a woman i know. nice one bonita - love paul.
ReplyDeleteKISSING THE CAMERA
ReplyDeletethe camera loves you
even though apart from the silk
and lace
there is nothing to love
more of a hawk, than a dove
but such a tanned pretty lying face
loved cheating and vodka, with milk
no conciense for the things you do
five kids.....who knows where
not that she could care
why do you keep writing about the hamster? does this fit the prompt? good imagery but again...does it fit the prompt?
DeleteThe rhythm you use for this poem is unique in that it emphasizes things like, the lace...which gave us good some really great imagery.
DeleteI like this take on the prompt. I think it could do without the conscience line.
Deleteoh i think sammies love of camera's , posing and mirrors fits ok bonita - love paul.
Deleteto clear up the hamster thing. i called sammie hamster, because they go round and round in a little wheel and never get anywhere. have a tendency to eat their young and are short lived. of course i told her it was because they are soft and cuddly. yeah. she could do without her conscience too - love paul.
DeleteBonnie? Um, what hamster are you referring too???
ReplyDeleteThe hamster confuses me too. You could cut out the “no conscience” line, because it’s pretty clear that she doesn’t have a conscience. It’s a strong poem- that might make it a little stronger.
DeleteYup. I read like 3 times looking for hamster. And Tad, I'm proud of myself. I posted my response before reading yours here!!
Deletelol! he always called Sammie Samster so I started calling her hamster.
DeleteHe said he liked women
ReplyDeletewith long necks.
I'd never noticed
neck length before,
started examining
works of art,
photos, paintings,
women with long, fragile
necks, different from my
short, thick one.
They could break on
a moment's notice
and I knew his longing
would never
be for my neck.
Although my heart broke
for the loss of his love,
I was glad
for artistry.
My neck would not break.
love it! love the imagery and the last powerful. I took away, from this poem, that your heart will break but never your neck and for some reason I liked that thought.
DeleteInteresting take on the prompt and an original poem too! You are good!
Deletehe must find giraffes very attractive then vic ha ha. interesting take on the promt - love paul.
DeleteI do the opposite from Paul -hit comment instead of reply. I’ll try to do better.
ReplyDelete