As Above ~ ekphrastic poem

As Above

so below, within the pulse that emerges
star fields forming just beyond

flames engulfing, just as quickly receding
depth in layers revealing what was always there

currents that conceal nothing and everything
eclipsing perception even as stars dance

their light washing away all you perceive
offering instead an amorphous birth

life in starlight

This ekphrastic poem is my response to the prompt for Reena’s Exploration Challenge #141 – Free Flow, which is to express a free flow of thoughts inspired by As Above, a video by artist Roman Hill showing the surface of a fluid chemical reaction accompanied by a pensive score.

Also shared with Open Link Night #269 at dVerse Poets Pub.

Image: screenshot from the video “As Above”

 

AS ABOVE from Roman Hill on Vimeo.

The Only Way ~ ekphrastic haibun

The Only Way

This life, spent for so long in one place, was not a life spent at a standstill. The directions taken may not have been direct, but they’ve brought me to where I am, today. The shortest route is not always the quickest.

Knowing the streets in the towns around me like the back of my hand meant never getting lost while making deliveries when, and where, they were needed. There is a comfort in knowing a place so well, but other elements in life have a way of interceding.

So it happened, that my last time behind the wheel of a truck was on the direct, cross-country route that brought me here, following my heart to a new home.

falling leaf
taken by the wind
shifting scenes

This ekphrastic haibun is my response to Haibun Monday: Meet Piet,
from Kim at dVerse Poets Pub, with the prompt to write a haibun
inspired by “Broadway Boogie Woogie” by Piet Mondrian.

Image source: Wikimedia Commons – “Broadway Boogie Woogie”, by Piet Mondrian

Poem Up at the Ekphrastic Review

My poem “without, as within” appears at Ekphrastic Writing Challenge Responses: Guillermo Wiedemann. It can be seen here, with many other deserving reads. The inspiration for the challenge is the painting “Figure (1959),” by Guillermo Wiedemann. Something tells me the current pandemic had something to say about this painting.

My thanks go to Lorette C. Luzajic, Editor at The Ekphrastic Review, for including my poem.

Ken G.

End This Endless Sunset – ekphrastic poem

End This Endless Sunset

Where do the seasons take us?
Is direction relevant
when the sun repeatedly sets
and the promise inherent in a sunrise
refuses to reveal itself?

Give me the promise of a spring
that cannot be denied, with clouds
to reflect that sunrise, not threaten
an unending storm to hold us back.

The Ekphrastic Review, with guest editor Janette Shafer offered Emilio Boggio’s Fin de la Jornada in The Emilio Boggio Ekphrastic Challenge. While I received encouraging comments from Janette, my submission did not make the final cut.  There are some wonderful selections that were chosen, including those by Kerfe Roig and Merril Smith, and they can be read here.

Image source: Wikimedia Commons – Fin de la Jornada, by Emilio Boggio

fish in child’s hair ~ ekphrastic poem

Claudia McGill’s Miniscule Illustrations: Transformation includes her pen and brush illustration and says:

This story is my favorite one in the Minuscule book, and when I was very young, almost 60 years ago, a tiny silver fish did swim into my hair on my first visit to the ocean – I was not quite five years old. I clearly remember the incident and the memory is a cherished one for me – almost a magical happening.

Her illustration inspired this poem, which I’ve layered into her art.

fish in child’s hair
planting seed of desire
to be a swimmer

Fleeting Memories ~ ekphrastic poem

Fleeting Memories

Tiny currents brush the edges of my mind.
Random details, trivial and not-so-
minor, flutter, teasing my thoughts.
Never clear in their intent. Prodding me
to remember, or struggling
to break the tethers imposed
by those details, always out of reach?

This is my response to Reena’s Exploration Challenge #113,
which offers a variety of images for inspiration.

Image source: pexels.com / Anthony

Guiding Lights

Guiding Lights

Concerns far behind us,
we reflect on direction,
guided by the light
of a thousand million souls.

Embracing the calm
descending upon us,
our course is clear
as we go forward, together.

This is a further revision of a poem that originated in February 2016, then revised and featured at The Ekphrastic Review in September 2018. All are inspired by Starry Night Over the Rhone, by Vincent van Gogh.

The poem as it appeared in 2016
~~~~~

Guiding Lights

Beneath the gaze of
a thousand million souls,
guided by their light,
we choose our path

Past concerns behind us,
we make our way,
our thoughts only for
what lies ahead

And as it appeared in
The Ekphrastic Review in 2018

Guiding Lights

Awake in this moment,
our concerns far behind us,
we make our way,
reflecting on direction.

Beneath the gaze
of a thousand million souls,
guided by their light,
our path is chosen.

Our course made clear,
we embrace the calm
that descends upon us
going forward, together.

Ken Gierke

Image source: Wikimedia Commons

Poem Up at The Ekphrastic Review ~&~ Mark Rothko Blues

My poem “the differences subtle” appears at Ekphrastic Writing Challenge Responses: Mark Rothko. It can be seen here, with other deserving reads. The painting “Untitled (Black on Red, 1957),” by Mark Rothko, is the inspiration for the challenge.  Once again, I’m fortunate to be on the same page as Kerfe Roig.
My thanks go to Lorette C. Luzajic, Editor at The Ekphrastic Review, for including my poem.

After submitting this, I read about the “Rothko” in a post by Paul Szlosek, and I decide to try the form. The “Rothko” was created by poet Bob Holman. Following Mark Rothko’s practice of using three distinct colors, it contains three lines, three words per line, in a tic-tac-toe pattern (horizontal, vertical, or diagonal) – written while standing in front of a Rothko painting (here, viewing the image).

Mark Rothko Blues

red heat surrounding
scarlet barely surviving
blackness consuming all

Ken G.

Image source: Tate – Untitled (Black on Red, 1957), by Mark Rothko