I did one like this once but I didnt know it had a name!
And a long one where the stanzas were supposed to be read from one to
nineteen and then back from nineteen to one - like going round an art
gallery in one direction and then back again in the other direction, I said.
A friend of mine wrote a palindrome poem recetly, where the words of the
first part returned in the opposite order, and made a different but
complementary sort of sense.
As this does. I think it is very good.
SallyE
> This is a specular poem, one stanza is a mirror image of the other. It
> seemed appropriate for the subject. The title is from a painting by Van Gogh
> that now exists only in reproduction and fascinated Francis Bacon so much he
> did a series of six paintings in homage. Tell me what you think.
>
> SELF PORTRAIT ON THE ROAD TO TARASCON
>
> He finally burns in fire-bombed Dresden,
> through his colours, like a cat,
> takes on other lives - remains
> consumed by the landscape he places himself within.
> Not painting, he walks instead
> motionless, outside the space our eyes view him.
> Exact centre
> he portrays an awkward marionette entwined
> in adamantine vertical and horizontal grids
> of horizon trees and road
> with no order of perspective,
> stuck in the never-never land of his journey with backpack
> somewhere between dimensions two and three
> where his shadow finds consolation
> on the picture surface rather than the road -
> yet to face his monsters his form tarries.
>
> Yet to face his monsters his form tarries
> on the picture surface rather than the road -
> where his shadow finds consolation
> somewhere between dimensions two and three
> stuck in the never-never land of his journey with his pack
> with no order of perspective
> of horizon trees and road.
> In adamantine vertical and horizontal grids
> he portrays an awkward marionette entwined.
> Exact centre,
> motionless outside the space our eyes view him,
> not painting, he walks instead
> consumed by the landscape he placed himself within,
> takes on other lives - remains
> through his colours, like a cat.
> He finally burns in fire-bombed Dresden.
>
>
> bw
> James
>
>
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