A Vivid Portrait in Black and White, by John C. Mannone

Untitled, Number 61, by Mark Rothko (USA, b. Vitebsk Governorate). 1953.

A Vivid Portrait in Black and White

I see colours whisper names,
ghosts of Henrietta Marie
inside the planks of wood
from sunken ships—murals.
Magenta smiles warp deep
blue, ocean blue where ship’s
bell lays still. Clanging.
Clanging loud cries of men
whose darkened shadows
have been replaced. Finally.
Their fettered souls ascend
through blue sky lesser blue
where anger has been washed
to muted gray.

John C. Mannone

This poem was first published in Rose & Thorn Journal.

John C. Mannone has work in Blue Fifth Review, New England Journal of Medicine, Peacock Journal, Plough, Windhover, Gyroscope Review, Baltimore Review, Pedestal, Pirene's Fountain, Poetica Magazine and others. He’s the winner of the 2017 Jean Ritchie Fellowship in Appalachian literature and the recipient of two Weymouth writing residencies. He has three poetry collections: Apocalypse (Alban Lake Publishing), nominated for the 2017 Elgin Book Award; Disabled Monsters (The Linnet’s Wings Press) featured at the 2016 Southern Festival of Books; and Flux Lines (Celtic Cat Publishing). He’s been awarded two Joy Margrave Awards for Nonfiction and nominated for several Pushcart, Rhysling, and Best of the Net awards. He edits poetry for Abyss & Apex and other venues. He’s professor of physics near Knoxville, TN. http://jcmannone.wordpress.com