My wife, my life (REVISED)

[alfredo]

sits awkwardly
before the easel
blending oils

with brush,
she reaches
to touch and re-touch
the jacaranda tree

from a distance,
over her shoulder,
the tree comes to life
as I remembered
months before
in Brisbane

then,
she was impatient
as I returned repeatedly
to compose

now,
sitting
just as I,
staring forth

she colours
the umbrella
matching Rivers’ original
- tangerine


sits back
silent as I before
both trying to express
what we feel
from what
we see





PREVIOUSLY

sits awkwardly
before the easel
blending oils

with her brush,
she reaches
to touch and re-touch
the jacaranda tree

from a distance,
over her shoulder,
the tree comes to life
as I remembered
months before
in Brisbane

then,
she was impatient
as I repeatedly return
to compose

now,
she sits
just as I, transfixed
staring forth

she colours
the sun umbrella
in tangerine
to exactly match
Rivers’ original

then, sits back silent
absorbed as I before
both trying to express
what we feel
from what
we see


My wife’s third day of painting Under The Jacaranda after R. Godfrey Rivers.

Original painting, viewable immediately below, was the subject of 2 earlier poems (links 2 and 3 also below): -

www.qag.qld.gov.au/__data/assets/image/0015/60018/varieties/Popup_800.jpg

poetsworkshop.net/xoops/modules/news/article.php?storyid=4004

poetsworkshop.net/xoops/modules/news/article.php?storyid=4094

[mfwilkie]

Hey, they liked your new title!!!

I think you need to bring this draft into the present, 'fredo, to accomplish your intent clearly.

I played with it a bit. I think you can do without the last three lines.




My wife, my life...



sits awkwardly
before the easel—
she blends oils

and with her brush,
reaches, touches,
re-touches
the jacaranda tree,

adjusts perspective,
considers.

over her shoulder,
the tree comes to life
as I remembered it
months before in Brisbane

then,
she was impatient
as I repeatedly
left her for the lyrics
of my own passion.

now,
she sits
just as I did then,
transfixed, somewhere
beyond staring.

she finds River's
tangerine
on her palette

her pleasure
locked in silence
as mine was before.

[alfredo]

Wow you are so quick.....with a new review!
My first reaction? Love some Others? unsure!
I will dwell
back soon

[Marion Poirier]

Ok, Alfredo, I understand, where you are coming from.
Painting on the canvas and painting with words are similar;
in fact, we know that many poets paint with the brush,
as well as, with words.
I am a minimalist poet, also work with colors;
studied and taught haiku before writing contemporary
poetry - everything changes - trends and styles -
we must be astutely aware of modern trends - we can write
for ourselves, as many do- or else revert back to past Masters;
that would be a mistake - we are all unique.

My only advice would be to write from the heart -
and avoid cliches, adverbs and use modifiers sparingly.
The inhabitants of the universe love simplicity
for obvious reasons that I won't attempt to explain -
emails always welcomed.


M

[alfredo]

Still dwellin’. Currently working on several Picasso heads. That is, five or so pencil sketches from early photographs. Each separately framed – as a set. He had such a marvellous head not to mention the eyes; as I guess …all artists must have good eyes; yes?

I understand most but not all your points. RE: emails always welcome? You too - your address is hidden though mine is not.

[Marion Poirier]

My email is the same as it's always been.
(The o after Malix is a zero,)
It's never been hidden.

My best,
Marion

[mfwilkie]

Just trying to show you clarity where it is weakest, 'fredo.