"dazzle gradually"

"Dazzle Gradually" 2017 poems, paintings, new art & photography--a diary, a discipline, a delight. Read over my shoulder as I post my unedited poetry ---you can see it in the raw or get my first book and see how the work evolves with new books rolling out next year.


Polly Alice

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Lie to me now

At the art studio, I'm working on a collection of paintings I'm calling the Love Stamp series. They commemorate important occasions in our life, we want to remember. Whether bad or good, I think how we remember something is what makes us human and what forms who we are. Sometimes we need to commemorate an occasion to forget it and move on; to reopen our calendar, wash it clean from past traumatic events. Here is a quote from my poem called, Archive,

Some insist memories stick to our subconscious 
like stamps on a postcard with Jungian script--
Dear Ego, . . . . Love Id . . . . 

So three years after this poem,  one of my paintings commemorates the journey of love, with a series of stamps. Stamps are a great symbol for the subconscious message, the dream, the idea, the window to the soul. In looking through my love poetry to help with my love letter pairing,  I found it lacking. Here is my poem with some of those thoughts in the subtext as I keep processing. Poetry is healing they say and so is art. I'm hoping to do both together.


Lie to me now

They say liars don't use metaphors,
can't use metaphors because
how would they know?
You can't describe something
poetically that never happened
that you've never felt.
So liars are not poets
or poetry can't lie?

They say metaphors
and rapid eye movement can
heal you 96% of the way
to wholeness from Post
Traumatic Stress Disorder.
So the doctor will let you
fill in the blank with
metaphors. Metaphors
with a blue screen behind
their white helvetica font.
You'll stare at a white dot. Run
your eyes from left to right
while metaphors bloom
in your mind like
sunflowers after a late
summer rain. Metaphors
that heals all your cracks
bring back to life your dry
dead stalks. With a little
green in your heart again.
You can breath. It's
really just writing poetry.
Running your eyes from
left to right over and over
writing and rewriting
metaphors like working
out a knot in the yellow ball of
yarn that your darn cat unraveled
on the floor. Yellow for
fear of course, because that's
a metaphor too.
Metaphors inhibit lying, or
maybe they are more true
than regular truth. It's safe
to say-- you can't lie and write
poetry at the same time.
The truth comes out whether
you want it to or not. Whether
you can see or it or not.
I mean, please-- No one writes
love poems using plastic flowers
and radishes as their metaphors.
You've got work to do.
Metaphors can heal you
96% they say. So Love,
go for the other four.

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