One of my creative writing professors gave the assignment to write poetry from art. It’s possible she was trying to introduce us to ekphrastic poetry, which, according to the Lantern Review Blog, is “written in conversation with a work(s) of visual art.”
But she took a less formal approach, closer to what the Currier Museum of Art has been inviting people to each month with their Art Inspires Art prompt and Tweetspeak Poetry has done with Image-ine Poetry: Find some art, study it carefully, write a poem.
For my class assignment, I used a small, framed print of an Andrew Wyeth painting as inspiration. I studied the boy sitting in the grass and imagined a possible scenario leading up to the moment Wyeth captured. As I was finishing the poem and typing it up, I realized I needed to include information about Wyeth’s work. I turned the frame around and only then, after titling my poem, did I learn the name of the painting: “Faraway” (image can be seen at the bottom of this page).
Runaway
(Andrew Wyeth, “Faraway,” 1952)
The boy rocks a depression
into the grasses of the unused pasture,
and as he latches his knees against his chest,
he twirls with his left hand the tail of his raccoon hat
his uncle gave him two weeks ago
after Thanksgiving dinner.
A couple miles away
his mother stands next to the porcelain sink
wiping yellow-flowered plates with a calendar dishcloth,
and listens to the Action Five News
while in the den his father props up his slippered feet
on the pine coffee table.
Uncle Jack will soon be in sight
and the boy will hear him tapping the horn of his truck
and leaning out the window to call his name.
Soon they will sit at a booth at the Clayton Cafe,
sip at their hot chocolate,
and talk the psychology of love, forgiveness,
and the Dodgers’ last home game.
©1988 Ann Kroeker
Those were the days of long sentences. I tweaked it for 2015.
Runaway
(Andrew Wyeth, “Faraway,” 1952)
The boy rocks a depression
into the grasses of the unused pasture.
Knees latched against his chest,
he twirls the tail of the raccoon hat
his uncle gave him two weeks ago
after Thanksgiving dinner.
A couple miles away
his mother stands next to the porcelain sink
wiping yellow-flowered plates with a calendar dishcloth.
In the den, his father props his slippered feet
on the pine coffee table
and watches the Action Five News.
Soon Uncle Jack will tap the horn of his truck
and lean out the window to call the boy’s name.
They will sit at a booth at the Clayton Cafe,
sip hot chocolate,
and talk the psychology of love, forgiveness,
and the Dodgers’ last home game.
©1988, 2015 Ann Kroeker
When you need a creative boost, write poetry from art. Or for that matter, let art inspire not only poems but also short stories, essays, blog posts, or books
.
Lovely poem. And that is such an evocative image of Wyeth’s. Makes you really wonder.
Thank you kindly, Richard, for stopping by and offering this response.
Your poem is lovely, Ann. Loved reading and comparing the two versions. Thanks for that. One of my favorite parts is the image: “wiping yellow-flowered plates with a calendar dishcloth.” It sticks and speaks.
Okay, I’m drawn to this idea of writing poetry about art. It might free me up to write less self-consciously! The spotlight is on the art piece instead of me. I’m looking for more ways to explore that territory.
Thank you for this post.
You should definitely try it, Bethany! In a speech team I’m a parent-coach for, we remind kids that if they give an “illustrated oratory,” where they use a series of boards with images attached that they can use to illustrate their information speech, the spotlight is off them and on the boards. Definitely a great choice for an anxious speaker. Same with poetry. We’ll consider the image and the story and/or the speaker of the poem without thinking so much about the poet.
Definitely look into ekphrastic poetry to see the more sophisticated and historical background on this style. You may find yourself creatively energized!
Thank you, thank you, Ann!