A penumbra of vision, poem by Vijaya Gowrisankar (MY IMAGINARY SKILL Poetry and Prose Series)

A penumbra of vision
by Vijaya Gowrisankar

I step onto the stage in my favorite red attire
Absorb the expectations of the esteemed audience
They inspect the handkerchief and the dough
Confirm they can’t see through this combination

One after the other, varied hands write numbers
Chalk scrapes and my mind’s eye deciphers them
Next is the language — English and international
I answer the queries, replicate the lines in speed

Completing simple lines to pictures evoke gasps
As natural as next breath, I continue with swift strokes
Is it the practice, the technique or art in my blood?
My passion takes over, I conclude with my pictorial signature

I remove the black cloth that numbs external sensation
I open the firm knots and the dough stuck like second skin
Drenched in sweat, I struggle to open my eyes to see the world
Step out of my magical sphere to expressions of awe and accolades

PHOTO: P.C. Sorcar, Jr., performs his trademark X-ray Eyes trick in India. (Photo by Sanat Kumar Sinha, All Rights Reserved).

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: P.C. Sorcar, Jr., is known for his X-ray Eyes trick. His father P.C. Sorcar had also perfected this magic. This poem is a tribute to this fascinating act — the last trick of his magic show that I attended as a child. For a long time, I was in awe of this act. Even today, when I close my eyes, I can see it as a vivid memory. See for yourself on youtube.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: 
Vijaya Gowrisankar released her second book of poems Reflect in December 2015. Her first book, Inspire, published in December 2014, reached bestseller status. She was announced as one of the winners of Inspire by Gandhi competition, organized by Sampad, a UK organization. She has been announced as the Winner of AZsacra International Poetry Award (Dec. 2015). Her submissions have been published in Forwardian, Triadae Magazine, iWrite India, Taj Mahal Review, along with Silver Birch Press.

The Ides of March: Soothsayer = Poet, essay by Ada Limón

THE IDES OF MARCH: SOOTHSAYER = POET
Essay by Ada Limón

Speaking of art & politics…

CAESAR
: What man is that?

BRUTUS: 
A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.

CAESAR: 
Set him before me; let me see his face.

CASSIUS: 
Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.

CAESAR: 
What say’st thou to me now? Speak once again.

SOOTHSAYER: 
Beware the ides of March.

CAESAR: 
He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass.
***
It’s hard not to think of Caesar on the ides of March. All those knives, all those men of politics. However, I often find that it is not Caesar or Brutus that I think of the most, rather, it is the Soothsayer. The poor nameless fellow who wanders in to warn his dictator of the coming fall only to be shoved out of the way as men with important business to attend to go about their day.

Mainly, I think, Hey, I’d like a soothsayer! Or an oracle. Or a Ouija board, a magic eight ball, even a good horoscope. Unlike Caesar (there’s really little comparison between us), I’d listen. Someone says, “Beware,” and I do, I pay attention.
 Maybe the soothsayers of today are the poets: Poor, often nameless, often shoved aside, often shouting something that no one is listening to.

But if the ides of March has taught us anything (aside from never befriending a man named Brutus), it is that we must listen to the soothsayers. Perhaps it could save our lives.
That sounds dramatic, of course, and it is. I like a bit of the dramatic. I mean, I’m talking about Caesar.

But in all honesty, I do believe that we are often delivered a poem exactly when we need it—when we are unaware that we are asking. We’ve all been on those marble steps, thinking, Man I’m done with this whole Rome thing. Let’s throw in the toga. And just then someone hands us a note, a poem. Say it’s, “Listen” by W.S. Merwin and we read: 
“with the cities growing over us like earth
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving 
dark though it is.”
And we’re reminded to do so.

Thank you. Thank you Rome. Thank you Romans. And for one more day we walk up the steps and we’re reminded to be, well, alive and for the meantime, happy about it.
 If it weren’t for those many poet/soothsayers, I’d most likely have taken the wrong path numerous times. Maybe you’ll get a poem today, passed under the door like a note. Read it, and in honor of the ides of March, pay attention.

SOURCE: poetryfoundation.org

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Ada Limón is the author of three books of poetry, Lucky Wreck, This Big Fake World, and Sharks in the Rivers. She received her Master of Fine Arts in Poetry from New York University. Limón has received fellowships from the New York Foundation for the Arts, the Provincetown Fine Arts Work Center, and is one of the judges for the 2013 National Book Award in Poetry. She works as a freelance writer and splits her time between Lexington, Kentucky, and Sonoma, California (with a great deal of New York in between). Her new book of poems, Bright Dead Things is forthcoming from Milkweed Editions in 2015. Visit her at adalimon.com.

AUTHOR PHOTO by Jude Domski

Believe in Magic, quote by Roald Dahl with painting by René Magritte

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”

ROALD DAHL

Painting: “The False Mirror” (1928) by René Magritte

The Door, poem by Miroslav Holub

THE DOOR
By Miroslav Holub

Go and open the door.
Maybe outside there’s
A tree, or a wood,
A garden,
Or a magic city.
Go and open the door.
Maybe a dog’s rummaging,
Maybe you’ll see a face,
or an eye,
or the picture
of a picture.
Go and open the door,
If there’s a fog
It will clear.
Go and open the door.
Even if there’s only
The darkness ticking,
Even if there’s only
The hollow wind,
even if
nothing
is there,
go and open the door.
at least
there’ll be
a draught.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Miroslav Holub (1923-1998) was a Czech poet and immunologist. who wrote many poems using his scientific knowledge to poetic effect.

Painting: “Psyche Opening the Door…” by John William Waterhouse (1904)

The Door, poem by Miroslav Holub

THE DOOR
By Miroslav Holub

Go and open the door.
Maybe outside there’s
A tree, or a wood,
A garden,
Or a magic city.
Go and open the door.
Maybe a dog’s rummaging,
Maybe you’ll see a face,
or an eye,
or the picture
of a picture.
Go and open the door,
If there’s a fog
It will clear.
Go and open the door.
Even if there’s only
The darkness ticking,
Even if there’s only
The hollow wind,
even if
nothing
is there,
go and open the door.
at least
there’ll be
a draught.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Miroslav Holub (1923-1998) was a Czech poet and immunologist. who wrote many poems using his scientific knowledge to poetic effect.

Painting: “Psyche Opening the Door…” by John William Waterhouse(1904)

The world is full of magic things, quote by William Butler Yeats

 

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”  

WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

ILLUSTRATION: “Butterfly Mask” by Bob Coonts, prints available at fineartamerica.com.

Believe in Magic, quote by Roald Dahl with painting by Rene Magritte

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”

ROALD DAHL

Painting: “The False Mirror” (1928) by Rene Magritte

Magic, poem and drawing by Shel Silverstein

MAGIC 
by Shel Silverstein

Sandra’s seen a leprechaun,
Eddie touched a troll,
Laurie danced with witches once,
Charlie found some goblins’ gold.
Donald heard a mermaid sing,
Susy spied an elf,
But all the magic I have known
I’ve had to make myself.

The Night We Were Gods, poem by Larry D. Thomas

THE NIGHT WE WERE GODS
by Larry D. Thomas

They hung by thread
just above our heads
in the entryway,
five hummingbirds
of clear red glass
 
covered with glitter.
Absentmindedly,
we brushed them
with the tips
of our forefingers,
 
rubbed our eyelids
and smeared them
with galaxies
of tiny stars.
For several hours,
 
till we showered,
and never even
noticing, we blessed
everything we touched
with crushed light.

….From Larry D. Thomas: New and Selected Poems (TCU Press, 2008). “The Night We Were Gods” also appears in the Silver Birch Press Summer Anthology, available at Amazon.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Larry D. Thomas, a member of the Texas Institute of Letters, served as the 2008 Texas Poet Laureate.  He has published twenty collections of poems, the most recent of which is Uncle Ernest (Virtual Artists Collective, Chicago, 2013).  His Larry D. Thomas: New and Selected Poems (TCU Press, 2008) was long-listed for the National Book Award.

Illustration: “Red Glitter Hummingbird” ornament, available at christmasplace.com.

Night Poem by Jim Harrison and Ted Kooser

Night Poem
by Jim Harrison and Ted Kooser

The moon put her white hands 
on my shoulders, looked into my face,
and without a word
sent me on into the night. 

###

Find more poems by Jim Harrison and Ted Kooser in BRAIDED CREEK: A Conversation in Poetry, available at Amazon.com.