Monday, January 17, 2011

My Poetry response to Starry Night

                                                My Thoughts
Looking at Van Gogh’s “Starry Night,” Anne Sexton wrote ‘The town does not exit…” Van Gogh painted a town on a starry night. The town does exist but the poet, who later killed herself suffered from maniac depressive syndrome. It seems to me that seeing the bushes as a drowned woman was really about how sad and depressed the poet felt about herself.
 On the one hand she is feeling good about the starry night because the painting is so alive to her, but on the other she thinks the stars “boil.”  Although she feels that the town does not exist, she obviously feels it’s calm. The calmness of this town which couldn’t possibly exist for the author; which is perhaps what she longed to be; calm and non-existent
If I wanted to describe Van Gogh’s starry night, I would see the quite homes under a starlit sky.  In this painting I also see a big golden moon in this eternal night. When I look at the painting I also see a church steeple, full of swirling clouds. It seems to represent hope and spirituality. When I read this poem, I believe that the poet felt despair from looking at the starry night. Perhaps she felt despair because she could not feel the stillness of the starry night.

The Accident

           My Love

Spiraling up my body
Like a sly fox sending currants through
Without any warning
The pain shattered through my aura of tough

Not physical

just heart break

leaning down to me smirking
Whispering back-biting  gossip
Burning my ears
And then like a broken down house
i leaned forward and cried

Tears filling my eyes
like the Ocean at its high tide

Never again would i leave my affection to anyone.

Not a Fox who would kill for me
Not a Bird who could set me free with the flight of its gentle wings

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Poem Response to Vincent

                        

Mama's House

Graffiti and jailed windows
Keeping you safe and keeping you out at the same time
The heat of a hot sun blaring on your back

Cracked sidewalks
Red doors painted with blood
My Brothers disappear
one by one

My windows are closed
Mama's windows are closed
Baby doesn't have a window yet

Staring into oblivion
Down a BLACK corridor
Paintings of strange man on my house

Here is Cuba