Day 23 & PPAC: Hanging tree

Another poem inspired by the art in the Porto Ercole botanical garden last summer.

Prompt 23: “Write a poem in the style of Kay Ryan, whose poems tend to be short and snappy – with a lot of rhyme and soundplay. They also have a deceptive simplicity about them, like proverbs or aphorisms.“

Right… I felt like someone told me: “Go read the Iliad and write something like that.” This is the kind of poetry closest to my heart but hard to do well. Still, I did something.

Hanging tree

The art is called 
“The Ampullas of Lost Sense”.
The sense is found
in resin,
in fixed mixed
medias res(in),
hanging by a thread. 
No sense in comp
-eating with nature.
As in art, so in life
it always wins,
after she gives you 
a good thrashing.

Below you will see that this installation by the Italian artist Malù dalla Piccola was indeed called Le ampolle del senno perduto (Gauze in resin and copper, 2021) but online I find it named Astolfo sulla luna.

It was part of “Endgame”, an exhibition of sculptural interventions located throughout the Corsini Botanical Gardens in Porto Ercole, curated by Luia Corsini in collaboration with Massimo Mininni. I visited it last August with my travelling uncle.

Here are more photos of this beautiful piece. The last photo is nature, not art.

I wish Marsha, our Photographing Public Art Challenge host, good luck with her surgery and healing.

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For Photographing Public Art Challenge (PPAC) hosted by Marsha at Always Write

The last day in my NaPoWriMo history

2018: A prolific yellow and green discussion (cento)

Have you seen green? Have you seen green grass?
So green, grass. So green. I’d like to be like that.

     All that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree.

I guess it’s because I’m greener than green.

     They call me mellow yellow, quite rightly.

It’s not easy being green.

Read on.

2019: Oh my dog

I talk to you.
Probably I never talked to anybody  
as much as I talk to you.
You are here and I am here
and we have each other to talk to.

Sometimes I drive with you in the back
and it’s stressful enough
to drive around Rome
but then I have to park too
so I offer it to you, this part.
You seem so fresh
and eager. 

Read on.

2020: DOOR/VRATA

Double brass, double digit, dabba doo.
Our mind sees it as a knocker.
Our mind sees it as a double knocker.
Ready to open or close at length, at will, at    
   your service. 

Visit now a completely different style:
Rear or front or service, with one foot out.
Across the middle a bar as if the door had a belt.
There is a vertical line separating two halves  
  sometimes.
Add another bar in the middle. And all tops seem to  
  be narrower.

(Visit the post to see all the doors.)

2021: Let It Bleed (cento)

It is the evening of the day
I sit and watch the children play
Smiling faces 
I can see them laugh at me
And I hear them say:

“Don’t play with me 
Cause you’re playing with fire”
He likes to keep 
His fire engine clean
It’s a clean machine

War, children 
It’s just a shot away
I tell you love, sister 
It’s just a kiss away
It’s all you need 

Read on.

This day in my blogging history

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  2014: Even us who will never die must keep saying that everyone will die, out of respect for those who will die. —Duško Radović

  (His compilation in my translation. Photo offline.)

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  2014: Metelkova City, Ljubljana, Slovenia.

• 2015: Children don’t need more things. The best toys a child can have is a parent who gets down on the floor and plays with them. —Bruce Perry

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  2016: I’m not responsible. This poem “Love” was written by Samsung Galaxy Note Trend Plus, my phone:

  Love
  you too.

     Still,
     the Google Team To
     in this email address.

  Please note
  that the information you need
  to be a good idea
  to advertise the UK. (Read on.)

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  2017: That’s Sunday for you.

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