June 20, 2019

Ekphrastic Challenge, May 2019: Artist’s Choice

 

Desert Road by Ellen McCarthy

Image: “Desert Road” by Ellen McCarthy. “The Years We Lived in the Desert” was written by Megan Merchant for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, May 2019, and selected as the Artist’s Choice.

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Megan Merchant

THE YEARS WE LIVED IN THE DESERT

I cooked without sugar, left the picture frames empty,
learned how to speak fluently about juniper,

elm, and pine to fill that dust-space. We married, deboned
fish on the back porch, drank wine

with fruits infused and I lied openly when you asked about
my dreams, what woke me shaking and soaked.

Vacancy is not an adequate splint for love. I was told to treasure
the red dust that grained in my hair and ears, the phantom

rain, the flat-earthers who gathered and measured the arc of sunset—
the shape of the world is as good of a religion as any,

but my god, have you heard the panged-song of coyotes, their
voice-wound loud, not afraid to tremble, not stomping

to smooth the cracks, or pausing in the open long enough
to pull the yucca spines from their skin.

The years we lived in the desert, I woke each day with a plan
to leave, drew maps of the land along the bottoms

of my feet, and practiced blurring into the infertility, not as an
art form, but as a relief.

from Ekphrastic Challenge
May 2019, Artist’s Choice

__________

Comment from the artist, Ellen McCarthy: “I shot the picture sitting on the back of a truck, struck by the radiant blast of two colors and two simple shapes and felt a jolt of joy. So it startled me that this image aroused so many poems about disquiet or dejection—’their/ voice-wound loud.’ My chosen poem’s first line yanked me by the hair into its doleful world: ‘I cooked without sugar, left the picture frames empty …’ By the last line, I had forgotten my original vision and was nodding in agreement: Yes, yes, the desert can ravish us in more ways than one. It’s a land where we must always have an escape plan.”

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May 30, 2019

Ekphrastic Challenge, April 2019: Editor’s Choice

 

Kandinsky's Slippers by Denise Zygadlo

Image: “Kandinsky’s Slippers” by Denise Zygadlo. “Art Therapy” was written by Aaric Tan Xiang Yeow for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, April 2019, and selected as the Editor’s Choice.

[download: PDF / JPG]

__________

Aaric Tan Xiang Yeow

ART THERAPY

The key is to construct a self from
scraps. Be it an origami lily with

a credit card bill, or collage pieced
using childhood photos. Think

of a lost puzzle piece, its edge
bent to fit. Think of a home

as a blueprint, with a toilet
tap that keeps dripping

even when tightened till
the forearm aches. Think of

window blinds as rebars,
a ribcage as an iron scaffold.

Think of father at the balcony,
eyes closed. Before him, the city

sprawling like his firstborn child,
excited with a crayon stick.

from Ekphrastic Challenge
April 2019, Editor’s Choice

__________

Comment from the editor, Timothy Green: “What first draws me to this poem is the voice, which genuinely sounds like the speaker in a guided meditation recording. But what holds me are the great leaps between the lines and images—and those great line breaks! There’s a wonderful sense of movement and surprise as we tumble down the poem, an expansion outward, until we reach that final line’s excitement. I feel revivified after reading this, and I can’t think of another poem that leaves me with that feeling. I want to go out and take a crayon to the world myself.”

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May 23, 2019

Ekphrastic Challenge, April 2019: Artist’s Choice

 

Kandinsky's Slippers by Denise Zygadlo

Image: “Kandinsky’s Slippers” by Denise Zygadlo. “In the Nostalgia Chair” was written by Matthew Murrey for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, April 2019, and selected as the Artist’s Choice.

[download: PDF / JPG]

__________

Matthew Murrey

IN THE NOSTALGIA CHAIR

I unfold Florida
days when I had my first
apartment, when I plugged in
a second-hand record player
and listened to my life.
It was small town, good
walking in the waking
morning while the sun
reinvented the horizon,
good night strolls
where stars kept track
above wires leaves and moss
and churches were dark
empty, unlocked, and holy.
We had some times:
that night of wine, that morning
of coffee and rain. One time
we smoked and couldn’t stop
laughing after we’d stared
at each other until you said
“I’m not feeling it.”
And when I was alone
and holy, nights were for falling,
Look Homeward Angel, asleep.
That was a different state,
a thousand novels ago. It’s a lie
to say I never looked back.
I still think about Keith Jarett
and the radio in the kitchen
and a bridge over a brown river
and a red-brick train station
and an afternoon of blue
thunder and broken branches.
Remember how the blinds
divvied up beauty on the wall
near the end of so many days,
and how green the world was
when we opened them? They
have fallen apart, like lovers,
like the loafers I wore when you left,
the ones, I’m sorry to say,
I threw away a long time ago.

from Ekphrastic Challenge
April 2019, Artist’s Choice

__________

Comment from the artist, Denise Zygadlo: “I found this poem very evocative; it created an atmosphere I felt went well with the image and took us beyond it into another world. The poet beckons us into his past and shares those important moments that lodge in his memory, without giving too much away, so that we find ourselves sitting in that deckchair reflecting with the sitter and composing our own pictures. In my collage it was Kandinsky, but it could be anyone transporting us into a world of nostalgia. I love that it summoned up such a rich love story for the poet, whilst retaining the essential elements of the image; the blinds, the loafers and the sense of a Florida landscape amongst palm trees. I also have a past with Keith Jarett records and liked how the allusions at the beginning of the poem were picked up at the end. Very lovely, well done Mr. Murrey, thank you.”

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April 30, 2019

Ekphrastic Challenge, March 2019: Editor’s Choice

 

Floating by Betsy Mars

Image: “Floating” by Betsy Mars. “Living in Space After a Break-Up” was written by Jaime Mera for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, March 2019, and selected as the Editor’s Choice.

[download: PDF / JPG]

__________

Jaime Mera

LIVING IN SPACE AFTER A BREAK-UP

She decided to go to space
like deciding to buy Seventh
Generation dish soap at Target.
No phone calls or texts. No
checking her ex’s Facebook
page for his updated status.
She imagined time in space
would pass like an innertube
floating down the river. At first,
the darkness felt like a demon
swallowed and plunged her
into the cavern of its belly.
Later, the darkness swaddled
her like a spider’s silk spun
around its egg sac. She stopped
aching for his touch and that warm
rush that flushed through her
as he kissed her inner thigh.
She discovered that time
collapses and merges together
like a river.

from Ekphrastic Challenge
March 2019, Editor’s Choice

__________

Comment from the editor, Timothy Green: “As Betsy Mars mentioned last week, there was an especially wide range of interesting poems submitted for the challenge in March—and a near-record 395 submissions total. Jaime Mera grabbed me right away with the surprising humor in the first three lines before plunging into incredibly nuanced metaphor of at the heart of the poem. I love how the breakup and life in space, too, merge like that river, so that I almost forget which is a metaphor for which.”

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April 25, 2019

Ekphrastic Challenge, March 2019: Artist’s Choice

 

Floating by Betsy Mars

Image: “Floating” by Betsy Mars. “Trompe L’oeil” was written by Juliet Latham for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, March 2019, and selected as the Artist’s Choice.

[download: PDF / JPG]

__________

Juliet Latham

TROMPE L’OEIL

What if the retina
jolted by a light
sent its obligatory signal

to the brain and formed
a woman
and that woman is me

a floater
which my doctor tells me
can be very normal

just a fiber clump
in the vitreous gel
that inhabits the eye

I learned early
this trick
of suspension

how to dart away
from any gaze
held too long

hover
just until
it is unclear

if what you watch
is the world you have left
or a tunnel you might enter

the things an eye
can see from this height
my mother’s face

hiding poison
only meant
for me

the lover on Chestnut
all charm in light
bullets by dark

business trip, an elevator,
strange man’s mouth
doors sealed hard

too many floaters
and a flash of light
is an emergency

my doctor says
I’m high risk
for retinal detachment

quizzes me on symptoms
to see if I’m listening
I tell her acute episodes

of imaginative replacement
floating, looking out
when I should be looking in

the presence of any magic
holding up the body
in lieu of trust

perhaps she’s warning me
about blindness because
she doesn’t know

I’m floating here
beyond her pencil of light
asking if this eye

is all there is to see.

from Ekphrastic Challenge
March 2019, Artist’s Choice

__________

Comment from the artist, Betsy Mars: “This was a unique opportunity to be on the other side of the selection process, and I am hereby swearing to never again second-guess anyone’s choice. The range of subject matter, style, and length was breathtaking. A gutsy, succinct very short poem vs. a heartfelt and well-written three-pager. Some touched on the futuristic aspects of the image, some took the vibe and went with it in a more indirect manner. It may have been the most arduous work I have ever done outside of childbirth. I admired all, but in the end chose this because I love the extended metaphor and the way that the poet blurred the line between the literal and the symbolic. The sense of alienation and detachment was so palpable in the writing. I have felt that kind of out-of-body experience when looking at my own life, and I think the poem aligns so well with the emotions conjured by the image. Plus, I am mildly at risk for retinal detachment.”

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March 28, 2019

Ekphrastic Challenge, February 2019: Editor’s Choice

 

Work Gloves by Justin Hamm

Image: “Work Gloves” by Justin Hamm. “Sometimes a Man Has to Get His Hands Dirty” was written by Alexandre Mikano for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, February 2019, and selected as the Editor’s Choice.

[download: PDF / JPG]

__________

Alexandre Mikano

SOMETIMES A MAN HAS TO GET HIS HANDS DIRTY

My father never liked
To call someone for help.
When he painted the house
It smelled like gunpowder
And dried spaghetti.
He covered up the walls
With a yellow paint and worked on his castle.
Sometimes a man has to get his hands dirty,
He liked to say.
My mother watched him bleed
Trying to fix the simplest things.
He never read the instructions.
One day they might teach you
How to shit.
There are things
A man should do alone.

from Ekphrastic Challenge
February 2019, Editor’s Choice

__________

Comment from the editor, Timothy Green: “Often I end up choosing a poem that takes the month’s image in some new and surprising direction, but this month the opposite is true. Alexandre Mikano went exactly where my mind goes when looking at this photograph, and were hundreds of other poets’ minds went, too—a kind of gritty love poem for a father figure—but he did it with such fine grace and detailed precision that it stood out among all the other poems nonetheless. This strikes me as a perfect embodiment of the image and the feelings it evokes.”

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March 21, 2019

Ekphrastic Challenge, February 2019: Artist’s Choice

 

Work Gloves by Justin Hamm

Image: “Work Gloves” by Justin Hamm. “Tan Hides and Hard Stuff” was written by Lisha Nasipak for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, February 2019, and selected as the Artist’s Choice.

[download: PDF / JPG]

__________

Lisha Nasipak

TAN HIDES AND HARD STUFF

As in the past, gloves still cut by hand,
One pair at a time, like a tailored suit.
Much like father but he was not as grand.
He was more or less a leathered brute.

Cowhide or tanned hides of quality leather.
The only hides that were tanned were ours.
Hiding under steps all huddled together,
Sitting there for what seemed like hours.

Gloves that guard between bare hand and touch.
Gloved to protect hands against bitter cold.
Father was the cold and he touched too much,
But not a word of that have we ever told.

Although his gloves worn soft and smooth.
Smooth he wasn’t, but harsh and tough.
Like nails to our backside; it was his truth.
And we were trained for the hard stuff.

from Ekphrastic Challenge
February 2019, Artist’s Choice

__________

Comment from the artist, Justin Hamm: “When I took the picture of the work glove, a number of possible stories passed though my head. This was not one of them. Reading ‘Tan Hides and Hard Stuff’ changed how I looked at the picture, made me see it in a way that wouldn’t have occurred to me. The poem took personal ownership over the glove; it became less my photograph and more an menacing artifact of the speaker’s trauma. The poet here explores the appearance and purpose of the glove and uses those to communicate what the father is and what he is not by comparison. And all this with formal concision. I admire and am moved by this poem very much.”

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