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Modern Art - Revised by ~ellierany:iconellierany:





The light is glitter, streaked
in a crumpled tissue paper sky,
washed out by spilt water. I lie
on the acrylic grass
and watch the brush strokes of  birds
through the scribbled leaves. I slip
through reality’s maze,
a chaos carving.

You should be painted on canvas,
hung in Paris,
burgundy and blue,
wrapped in hushed voices, revered
like the dead. You’d sell for millions.

Watch the watercolour wash
of sunset, an oil pastel horizon.
I won’t pretend an opal
is the frozen moon.

I’ll make you a work of art.
You finger your pockets and pull;
gold chains, diamond brooches,
rubies set in silver, gleaming
like cats’ eyes, predatory glares,
this; your worth.

I’ve known gold dust seep through the sky,
I climb wealth in trees, pick emerald apples
in my grandmother’s garden.
Worms find currency in compost
and rotting flesh, and one day
you’ll pay up.

Don’t smile, you say,
for your sorrow I’ll give you the world.
©2006-2010 ~ellierany
:iconellierany:

Author's Comments

This came from about half of Precious Things.

Daily Deviation

Given 2006-10-12

Modern Art - Revised by ~ellierany starts gently and calms you with whispers from love. I think there are a number of interpretations for this piece of poetry, and for me it's about hope - seeing the glass as half-full. (Suggested by ~Amalgamadora and Featured by `imperfect)

Comments


love 2 2 joy 0 0 wow 3 3 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 0 0 neutral 1 1
:iconthecuddlydevil:
Is that a typo in the stanza before last? I've know? Or do you mean I've known? I'm going to mull over this a bit before I give my final opinion, but I just wanted to check with what might be an error.

--
But I -being poor- have only my dreams --Yeats
:iconellierany:
it must be. strange I've never noticed it before, I must be numb to the poem

--
But can you prove that?
:iconthecuddlydevil:
I really love the imagery in this poem, but I'm getting mixed signals from different stanzas.

For instance, the 3rd stanza doesn't seem to gratify the "art", as opposed to the previous two stanzas. The line I'm talking about is I won't pretend...a silk cushion. (which is, by the way, a marvelous line on its own)

In the 4th stanza I have a problem with the last line. Does your worth refer to the person? That's what it seems so, but it'd make much more sense if it referred to the painting. And since you already said "you" it looks like it's about the person.

The 5th stanza has some nice imagery, but I'm not sure what it does to the poem as a whole.

The last stanza is incredible.

The enjambement, in general, is really amazing and shows its effect when you take the time to read well. But I have a problem or two with certain lines.

You should be
painted on canvas, hung in Paris,


This seems to emphasize "you should be" which makes it kinda odd to read. Not a real problem, but I thought it would be nice if it was

You should be painted on canvas,
hung in Paris,


Simply an opinion of course.

a pencil scribble of stonework. I won’t pretend
a marble wall is a silk cushion.


You may, or may not, have intended a sort of dichotomy(sp?) between "a pencil scribble" and "a marble wall", but I thought it would be better if "I won't pretend" was on a line all on its own. Thus,

a pencil scribble of stonework.
I won’t pretend
a marble wall is a silk cushion.


You finger your pockets and pull,
gold chains, diamond brooches,


A few grammar notes. I may be incorrect, I've had grammar problems in abundance. But is the comma at the end of that first line necessary? Since pull, gold chains, diamond brooches seems kind of weird.

like cats’ eyes, predatory glares,
this, your worth.


How about an apostrophe after the first line? It adds some focus on "this, your worth." which is a great line. Capitalizing the T in "this" would make it even better. This is a bit of a far-fetch, but how placing "This, your worth" by itself? It may not work, but I stand by the first two suggestions.

Worms find currency in

This line seems weird ending on "in". How about moving the "in" down to the following line?

Worms find currency
in compost and rotting flesh and one day
you’ll pay up.


Those are the notes I have. It's a really nice poem. But I had a problem with the "mixed signals", as I said.

I have two theories about the meaning, which I believe either work. One is that the poem is about the sad life of a painting. The other is about the deameaning of art by evaluating it through economical means.

Fantastic ending lines, by the way.

--
But I -being poor- have only my dreams --Yeats
:iconellierany:
(I'm working on this, by the way.)

--
But can you prove that?
:iconthecuddlydevil:
Notify me when you finish.

--
But I -being poor- have only my dreams --Yeats
:iconellierany:
I finished. I could go into it, but I forgot what I did.

--
But can you prove that?
:iconcza24-9:
wow...this is a truly awesome image filled poem. congrats on the dd, it's fully deserved.

--
"I paid for my indecision with interest,
wandering in the untouched forest
and listening alone to the pine-needles."
-- Yevtushenko [from Zima Junction]
:iconinamorata-smile:
_good lord_

--
Pray to God when it is not time
:iconaltereddopamine:
Insta Fav. First thing I've read in years to ellicit an emotional response like that. Gratz on the DD, you def deserve it. I can't even give my view on the structuring right now because of how well your message is conveyed (which I interpret as a demeaning of the motives of modern art compared to classic)(right now, tho, it's connecting with very different aspects of my thoughts)....bah, that may be a bit overdone, but at 4am I'm completely impressed, and I'm sure I'll be at noon also!
:iconaltereddopamine:
forgot to add that little smiley thingie ;)

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June 12, 2006
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