Yellow Crosswalk
Not in a fluster/ Unsure where to set my sight on/ Unreservedly tete-a-tete with you/ Now I’ll go ahead and tell you everything/ I want to pluck the guitar strings/ The lowest bass sound/ Boom, boom/ The choppy yellow waves are traversing the world/ The right hand, the shoulder/ The thick left index finger/ In the room with blue curtain, oxygen, hydrogen or the fragrance of a still life painting of apples and grapes, and so forth are alive as if dead/
Examining the sensory organs of the guitar/ Eyes, nose, navel, lips, hidden ears, exposed neck, the neck that governs the heart, temple, the bountiful skirt/ I am inspecting your eyes/ Eyes that look as if laughing or pensive/ The magnetic field created by a bar magnet/ Magnet/ Steel wire/ I am very fond of wireless guitar/ Guitars don’t have doors to begin with/ I am walking past the crosswalk disregarding the *Girl in Yellow and Blue with Guitar/
*‘Girl in Yellow and Blue with Guitar’(1939) by Henri Matisse(1869~1954)
Poem Note:
I am getting convinced that if Picasso is a clamorous disconcerting Matisse, then Matisse must be a comfortable serene Picasso, which may a ludicrous thought. I want to get close to seemingly blunt, yet smooth-contour-seeking Matisse. Peaceful Fauvism. His colors are ferocious. In this picture, I am walking past the dense yellow crosswalk that traverses her bountiful skirt.
© Ryang Suh, MD 2022.11.11
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