I am not an enchanted owl,
but I want to be. I want to, like you
might want strong meat to chew on,
or else at the opposite extreme
rich thick creamy chocolate cake
that you might want or I …
but anyway, what I don’t want
is to be a piece of canvas, or paper
or board, or anything flat, two-
dimensional as a blade of grass.
It’s not that I object to being
Inuit (an Inuit anything)
because that would make me
racist, wouldn’t it? (Although I
don’t live in Canada or Alaska
so would it even count?) It’s the
print bit I don’t like to entertain,
not when pertaining to me, in my
good round flesh. But there’s this
one print I saw just now, when taking
a virtual stroll through a part of
the Canadian Museum of History.
The Enchanted Owl arrested me, with
its unblinking gaze, its half-curved
claws caught mid-retraction, and
its wild, expansive, stripes of feathers –
its confronting feathers – paused
for take-off, while this creature (me)
is briefly examined. I want to be the real
alive owl. I want to expand my wings,
cry out in a voice that I – who didn’t paint
this, or live there – don’t know, and will
never. I want to fill out that compact body
with food and breath, rise up to brush the air
with sweeps of those enchanting feathers.
Print by Kenojuak Ashevik (image)
(Fell madly in love with this image, then learned it's actually a famous 'Canadian icon'.)
Strong imagery in this poem, Rosemary. I love that you wrote:
ReplyDelete‘…what I don’t want
is to be a piece of canvas, or paper
or board, or anything flat, two-
dimensional as a blade of grass.’
An enchanted owl would arrest me too, I love your detailed description of it, although I went with Degas’ ballerina.
Degas' ballerina is very enticing too!
DeleteI am not but I want to be... now that's an amazing start that grabs at my heart strings. How did you do this? It's tremendously entertaining. Thanks for sharing Rosemary. Blessing you.
ReplyDeleteOh, thank you. You're so kind. I am finding this year's prompts astonishingly inspiring. I've never been keen on writing ekphrastics before, but perhaps it is because this time they are combined with other instructions, or perhaps it is that the art works used are so very wonderful.
DeleteI can see you wanting to be a bird, one with first class feathers. I'm seeing pretty white ones. Mine would be of many colors, like the adult male peacock.
ReplyDeleteNot sure where I envisioned from but from, say age six to eleven I would think of me jumping from an open upper window flying away. Part of my vision was the landing because of course I couldn't fly and would come crashing to the ground. I would be dead. Generally I did this after my father was cruel to me.
Did you click on the link to the image? I would want feathers just like that! (Not pretty white at all.) I can imagine you in the peacock colours.
DeleteI can understand the wish to fly away when your father was cruel. And even the thought of crashing to the ground: one way to escape. I'm sorry you endured that cruelty, and very glad you survived.
Oops, Rosemary, my mistake but blame it on my cellphone. I don't have my computer, a hand-me-down, set up for poetry form a d writing. The cellphone is also hand-me-down but is set up for poetry because that's what I've used for a long time. When I was able and write again everything was there.
DeleteOne problem, our problem is that the cellphone is so very old that it becomes color blind only black and white after a period of use. . Then I assumed your bird was white. White birds are in my mind to be very good.
Oh yes, I am not sure but what only google can reply to others. I f it were possible even so, i have no idea what my passwords would be.
Oh I see. The bird's feathers are black on the right, a goldy-brown on the left. The bird's head and body are black.
DeleteI love that closing sentence!
ReplyDeleteThank you! I feel very complimented, considering how wonderfully lyrical your own poems are.
DeleteI would love to have this print embossed on a piece of jewelry (a brooch) or hanging from a chain that matches its magnificence. I am at this very minute, visualizing you as an "Enchanted Owl." Cheers.
ReplyDeleteIt is a wonderful image, isn't it?
DeleteSome wonderfully observant observations but also delicious imagery - particularly that cake - Jae
ReplyDelete*Grin.*
DeleteI don't want to be that flat and one dimensional either!
ReplyDeleteDon't worry, you're not!
DeleteWhat a beautiful image you've chosen, Rosemary! And your poem does it justice. I have a liking for owls too, it must be my glasses that make me look owl-like! :-)
ReplyDeleteLOL I wear glasses too; maybe that is it!
DeleteI'm glad you think my poem does the image justice. Always the fear with ekphrastics, that the poem might be far inferior to the artwork it references.
"its wild, expansive, stripes of feathers –
ReplyDeleteits confronting feathers – paused
for take-off, while this creature (me)
is briefly examined. I want to be the real
alive owl. I want to expand my wings,"
You have definitely crept into the owl's skin. Wonderful imagery!
Oh, thank you! I'm very glad to know that.
Delete