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October 21, 2014 Poetry

2 Poems

Alexander Tkachuk

2 Poems photo

[Idea for a picture]

A painter is painting a portrait with an observer beside him. Inside the portrait is a naked woman trying to cover herself with her arms. It may be a Portrait of Venus, or it may be a pastoral piece with an unnamed subject. This is an unimportant detail. What is important is the fact that she’s staring at the painter through the canvas. Her face is contorted into a mix of shock and disgust. She is folded in on herself and trying to cover as much of herself as she can and she is not doing a great job at this. She is a little too young to be a subject of this nature. Maybe 15 or 16. Her skin is pale. Her hair is golden. There are light green fields behind her and a light blue sky. White clouds and a brightly colored sun. All of the colors in the painting are vibrant and the brush strokes are almost invisible. Outside of the portrait the world is drawn in charcoal. Everything is darkly shaded and pencil lines are very visible under the concrete. The figures may be drawn as expressionist caricatures.  They sneer at the painting lustfully. The Painter holds his brush out lightly and moves it towards the woman while his other hand is gripping his own erect penis. The observer has one hand on the painter’s back, and his other hand on his own Erection.

The piece is to be taken as a critique of the male gaze in classical aesthetics or possibly as an extension of the male gaze. It depends on the viewer.


[Essay on perspective]

Five angels quietly make love
beneath a pane of glass with their
feathers pined to the backdrop of eternity,
their skin, sweat, tears, blood 
and juices mix into seas of oneness
into screaming quietude
and moaning acquiescence
where the arched backs of longing dissolves
into the chimera of satisfied Eros
Collapsing further still
into one Will with a mouth full of genitals,
and a hand full of genitals
and an ass, or cunt or thigh full of genitals;

Each one a Madonna
of opposing shape and color
and intensity, falling into sand
and becoming whole through tiny holocausts.
Tasting faint dinners and desserts
which speak and taste and smell
like strawberries and communion wine
and blood that was once communion wine

Each one lost
in her moment of prayer:

Five Angels: Since thine is the power and the Glory,
                       Since thine is the kingdom and the power and the Glory,
                       Since thine eye is omnipotent,
                       Since thine eye is benevolent,
                       Omniscient, and unending,
                       Since thy lips kiss our naked rumps,
                       And rape our solitude with uninvited screams
                       Of holy holy holy—

Half wholly half interested
The gaze lingers moments more
“More more more”
She screams, “more”

Morphine haze
Limiting limitless ideals
And pornographizing
Moments which leave
no bearing on their speaker

Let me appropriate you, baby,
Don’t fret, it’s fine
I’ll only rape you with my eyes

five angels quietly make love screaming:
“Holy holy holy
holy shit that feels good”


Five Angels: We’ve left the blind’s open
                       We should have been more careful
                       Everyone knows that open blinds
                       Signify voyeuristic consent
                       It’s our fault if he looks at us
                       It’s our fault if he looks at us
                       It’s our fault if he looks at us

Five angels are pinned to the backdrop of eternity
Perfect specimens of the Angelus Novus
Breasts shining in the moonlight
Thoraxes perfectly preserved
Five angels staring at Eden
The perfect educational tool
             I wonder what sound
                        They would make
                                     If they dropped.

Would the priest laugh
If you told him that you watched the nymphs
As they danced around the mulberry bush?

As I look at the chimera, I realize that I am lonely
And the chimera looks everything, but lonely

Grab your camera
Grab your pen
Grab your paints and canvas

The chimera left the blinds open
I think I can hear it growling
Oh no, it’s running away
Watch it go around the mulberry bush
It’s lips are stained black
Watch it go into the corner store
Watch the wise old clerk. He’s confused.
Now the Chimera’s on the TV screen
(Behind the glass again)

It’s selling lies on the distraction channel!
It’s selling lies for free

I saw five angels behind a pain of glass
And I watched them cry,
then sang a song to the mulberry bush
A sad little devil am I.


image: Aaron Burch