Ars Poetica Imagine yourself a kingfisher, skimming the surface of a lake of the woods so placid you catch yourself bemused by the belted reflection whipping its wings below you. Bankside, your nest rests in cool mud somewhere among cattails and reeds. Your rattle declares your brilliance before you break the mirror with one last plunge. The gloaming casts wooden shadows on the far shore, impels you to your darkened hollow, beak empty. Some days offer little more than the grace of gazing inward. You settle in with your brood, shared warmth your only nourishment, and greet the welcoming pause of night with a flourish of want, anticipation for the scattershot light of dawn. Celluoid In the bleeding throng of dawn we cast aside our penchant for precision, deem what is real to be improvisation. Somewhere our mountain top gets lost-- cathedral spired cliffs thrust their silhouettes, scale daybreak like a slow dissolve shot in a John Ford film where our hero lingers off camera, asks how many suns we must chase before succumbing to serendipity, the wilderness of our longing gilded in an acetate morning beset with shadows. To see clearly is to grasp a whisper. Freehand Given the choice, how would you enter the space rippling between reeds: drift with morning mist torn from a lover’s journal-- bloom like a black ibis fishing a parchment fringe-- bleed like a brushstroke hanging in the folly of margins. What space to enter comes easily, how to fill it takes a lifetime. Landscape 18.4 Whose lone sail carries the boat through sheets of rain, black skies looming? Whose hands guide the rudder through choppy waters? This is the sky breaking. This is after the storm. Lighthouse a mere shadow on the peninsula, landfall a dream. The wake swallows up memories like ink spill in linen. A hard edge bears the night little leniency. A sailor squints in mist, drifting with a calm, heavy-handed yearning. Skeletal What wild creatures haunt our childhood dreams-- lanky, leggy, gathered hip-hinged beneath a waxing moon. Plotting, plodding, they roamed open fields as we slept unaware. Only in dreams did we dare dance with such devilish beings intent on dragging our souls into Satan’s lair. Or so we were told by Baptist grandparents who tucked us in, held our hands, prayed to a god that lingered somewhere in shadow, prayed that we sleep safely until morning. By the time we grew old enough to trust our doubts, these creatures—whose only sin was a longing for our world to see virtue in their otherness-- have left us. We yearn, cling to a past dimly lit, wondering if they still lurk in hillsides, too murky, too foreign for us to trek alone in the blue bruise of night. Chuck Salmons A native of Columbus, Ohio, Chuck Salmons is a poet and currently President of the Ohio Poetry Association. His poems have appeared in several journals and anthologies, including Pudding Magazine, Evening Street Review, Common Threads, The Fib Review, Red Thread Gold Thread, Everything Stops and Listens, and Poets to Come: A Poetry Anthology in honor of Walt Whitman’s bicentennial. His chapbook, Stargazer Suite, was released in December 2016 and is available from 11th Hour Press. His second chapbook, Patch Job, was published by NightBallet Press in 2017. He won the 2011 William Redding Memorial Poetry Contest, sponsored by The Poetry Forum of Columbus, and has garnered awards from Ohio Poetry Day. Most recently, he is a recipient of a 2018 Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Award for his poetry. Chuck regularly gives readings throughout Ohio, both solo and as part of the poetry trio Concrete Wink. He also leads workshops for various groups and audiences. Learn more at his website: chucksalmons.com. Alice Carpenter's inky, rich monotypes have a visual depth and pictorial strength that belie size. Her unique technique and handling of her media evoke an invitation into scenes that combine memory and presence. The tactile physical presence of her monotypes have affinities with some of the early drawings and etchings of the contemporary master Brice Marden. Along with showing in many regional venues, recent national recognition includes selection into the Butler Institute of American Art Midyear National Juried Exhibition (2015, 2016, 2018 & 2019) as well as the Monotype Guild of New England National Juried Exhibition in 2018. Learn more at www.alicecarpenter.com.
2 Comments
Valdan Pennington
2/7/2023 09:11:31 am
Lyrical descriptions as beautiful and mysterious as the monotypes. Thank-you!
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Valdan Pennington
2/6/2024 09:47:13 am
Beautiful almost elgiac. Out these glimpses into the past, the future or our dreams where all is possible?
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