Wednesday, November 11, 2009

week 11: Follow the Leader

Follow the Leader is a visual arts collaboration wherein each artists takes one of the 6 seeds provided on the Follow the Leader blog and creates a full image which includes the seed in some form or another.

your challenge this week is to create a poem around one of the six seeds (you may chose more than one seed, or write more than one poem).




    Oh a flick of my boot at a swiffling cloud
    snaps the top off a jar of emptiness
    and a paddle suspended in air like a shroud
    ghetto-blasts a wheel that begins to hiss

    as it rolls down a hill of nothingness
    (as pale a blue as you ever could want)
    and paddle flips jar with such finesse
    a puff of smoke blows up from its vent

    toward my boot (a one-legged man alone
    among ghostly objects as white as bone)


    There’s an old boot
    battered and raw

    It could be Van Gogh’s boot
    It could be the world

    Killed and revived over and over
    its sole bent up and its

    heel crooked
    as if beaten by trees

    Traipsed over great clumps in fields
    or dodging strafe-fire and

    a boot that’s seen too much in its

    short leathery life
    yet soldiers on

    brutishly bootish
    Presumably for a foot

    though it’s taken on a life beyond
    shoeing something as

    ephemeral as a foot
    it now seems to fit all feet

    and none

    More a boat than a boot
    More a ship than a shoe

    braving earthly waves

    Sitting here alone now
    beached in a dark brown light

    radiantly dark
    (it could be God’s boot

    though God has no foot
    nor needs a boot

    It’s just that it’s that kind of boot
    no human foot could be so


    as it sails in
    utter stillness

    having reached
    its end of usefulness

    and now will not go anywhere
    that is not where it

    already is

  3. #3

    reflecting on, or
    reflecting in, you thought
    you caught yourself in a net
    for little things that fly or swim.

    but you do neither very well.
    I blame NPR, The New York Times,
    Google, Facebook, and the kitchen sink.