Ekphrasitic Explorations

This is the second ekphrastic poem I've ever done, which is a poem written in response to a work of art.  Henry Tanner's "Salome" has long been one of my favorite paintings. I am drawn to the deep blue hues in several of his pieces, without really connecting to the religious theme of the subject matter at first. Neither did I know the story of Salome, who is King Herod's daughter. Researching that story further for this poem not only led to a deeper appreciation of the painting, but gave me multiple perspectives from which to frame my poem.

Blue Note

By Anne Eston

(After Henry Tanner’s “Salome”)

I danced for him

but did not become

the lover I thought myself to be.

I step into the half-light.

Moonlight shimmers

on my nudity…

Waiting for a lover

who can see

the filmy hesitancy of my 

womanhood.

My hidden eyes will tell you,

my mother’s prize is not my own—

ignore the dead man in the corner.

I’m a writer of magical realism, a mentor to women writers of all ages, and a story magic archaeologist. I hold an MFA in Creative Writing, and I live in Los Angeles with my husband and our two Imp Muses (cats) Stanley and Sofia. Join my mailing list for a free guide on story magic!

www.writeranne.net ⁎ anne@writeranne.net ⁎ Twitter @wildwriteranne ⁎ Facebook Wild Woman Writer

The Dragon Within

Today's session of Dorothy Randall Gray's workshop Writing the Rage, Healing the Soul was powerful. I had already taken the International Women Writers Guild's Free Write Friday on July 7 with Dorothy (read an excerpt of what I wrote for that workshop here), so I was ready to join her workshop today in its second week. Here's what flowed to the page today:

Untitled

(After "Dragons" by Sarah Kay)

She waits inside me, this stunning beauty,
harbinger of truth that will soon be
said out loud. I may speak in a whisper at first,
just as I was taught,
tail between my legs.
But as I find it, my silver, sapphire scales
begin to sparkle from beneath my skin,
shaming the façade
I've carried for so long.

I sing, and cry more loudly and sweetly
by the instant.
In the fervency of all I have to say,
my tail whips out and
levels your playing field,
scattering your kings and pawns alike.

I roar, and burn it to the ground.
Game. Over.

I’m a writer of magical realism, a mentor to women writers of all ages, and a story magic archaeologist. I hold an MFA in Creative Writing, and I live in Los Angeles with my husband and our two Imp Muses (cats) Stanley and Sofia. Join my mailing list for a free guide on story magic!

www.writeranne.net ⁎ anne@writeranne.net ⁎ Twitter @wildwriteranne ⁎ Facebook Wild Woman Writer