Self and reality. Symbol and language. Myth and image. Memory and consciousness.
Dream and unreality: locus communis.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Creatures of Constant Motion

There exist specific images I tend to over-use in my poems: the moon, nighttime, dreams, and lately hands.


Of the human anatomy, the hand expresses as much emotion and temperament as the eyes. In theory I blame the Renaissance painters and their theatrical reenactments from Greek myths and Biblical passages. The actors on the canvas must express a range of ideas and circumstances without being able to utter a sound.

As a child I spent hours glossing over the Italian Masters and their interpretations of Adam accepting the forbidden fruit from Eve, or Saul on his journey to Damascus— all of which clearly show the flickering gestures of the paintings' protagonists in a variety of moods.

I can include the obvious analogy of typing, my fingers and wrists are always in motion along a keyboard, stroking characters on to the screen, clicking away at the lap top or smartphone— Even now, between paragraphs and moments of slight reflection, my hands agitate against the air, creatures of constant motion: small birds.

122 / the overhead fan spirals continuously— yet, you sleep soundly beside me throughout the night— my nervous hands motioning

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