#ekphrastic writing

[amyjasek]

Cimmaron

Cimmaron, NM | Polaroid photo by author End of the mountains, the end of the line.Dad used to say “the dead center of town.”The old bones resting here have done their time. Now they gaze out at the prairie, the fineendless grasses wave back. A man could drownin those mountains. He has to hold the line until it breaks, then hold on longer. Twineis good but faith is stronger. Dad’s short…

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#cimmaron #ekphrastic writing #family #fundraiser #grief #new mexico #poem #poem a day #poetry #project #time #tupelo press #villanelle

[the-happy-princes-sketchbook]

Football Field Confessional

Ekphrastic poem

Did Jesus love his father

when he woke up with scars on his palms

and blood in his eyes?

Did instinct tell him to be good,

even when his body bore

the holes of human hate?

Sitting on the bleachers, cheap

liquor hot in the pit of my stomach,

I can’t find him to ask.

I don’t feel so good, I want to tell him.

You’re supposed to make sure I’m not alone.

The rage in me is ancient, Roman;

the same kind that killed Jesus.

I want all the men who punch holes in walls

and put their hands on little girls

to die slowly and painfully.

I want the boy who fucked me

into a dirty yellow mattress to come

back home so I can tell him

I never loved him.

I want his brother to come back

so I won’t have to see the half-mast flag

on his mother’s rotting porch.

I want to find the edge of the world

in California, where I know there is love

and so many other bright, wonderful things.

#prob not including this in my poetry portfolio but here u go tumblr! #art #artists on tumblr #thehappyprince’ssketchbook #original art #literature #poetry #creative writing #original poem #poet #poets #prose poetry #prose #poetic #prose poem #poem #poems #my poem #writers and poets #prose writing #beautiful writing #writer #original writing #writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #my prose #original prose #original poetry #ekphrastic poetry

[creatediana]

Miley Cyrus is thirty, and I used to think that sounded old but now it just sounds thirty. Hannah Montana was my first pop icon—or obsession. I remember my shoes, my shirts with her teenage face printed on with that flimsy wig—I wanted one just like it, or of my own. Just wanted to be someone different and older. And I'm twenty-four now and I still haven't dyed my hair blonde. Still a redhead, I'm afraid, but that made my dead grandmother very proud. I remember that 3D concert movie in third grade premiering in theaters. You know I wore my favorite shoes to it. I had to. How could I go out to the live Hannah Montana experience without those dirty white sneakers with a cheap gold paint? My prized possessions. And she sang the first song she ever wrote, "I Miss You," for her grandfather, and I just thought: Wow, what a big girl, who can do so much, make her own music, sing it in front of millions, and who has experienced so much. Now it seems like not all that much to me. When Meet Miley Cyrus came out as a double-album with Hannah Montana 2, you know I was blasting it in my bedroom, singing and dancing to those songs like I wrote 'em. Like they were mine. I suppose they still are, and so were Bangerz and Dead Petz for me in high school, and Younger Now when I was eighteen, a legal adult but a little baby, but supposedly not "stuck in East Northumberland High for the rest of my life"— I guess people do change. But did I really? And did Miley really? Surely she did, she has, over and over again. Changed genres, sounds, and looks. Supposedly so have I. I wear bras now, at least when I go out in public, but Miley also taught me what nipple pasties are. You see? She's an icon, a legend and an educator, a role model but never wanted to be one, was never old enough to be one when she was forced to be. Miley Cyrus is thirty, and I'm twenty-four. Now she says we used to be young. Can't deny that that's true. The years go by, though, and we're still in our same skins, with new cells, with changed voices, but still singing.

"Miley Cyrus is Thirty" - an ekphrastic free verse of "Used to be Young" (2023) by Miley Cyrus, written 8/26/2023

#free verse #2023 #ekphrasis #ekphrastic poetry #free meter #stream of consciousness #miley cyrus #hannah montana #nostalgia #used to be young #pop culture #ive had the first three lines of this poem rattling in my mind for awhile but they never really took form until today #poem #poetry #my miley cyrus anecdotes go on and on and on ill have you know #i have so many memories w miley that this poem feels like it still doesnt do her justice but who knows #i could write a sequel. or maybe i never will #but hannah montana premiered when i was in first grade. and i got my first period the same month it ended #you can only imagine the emotional effect that had on sixth grade me #i was devastated. i truly felt like i was Growing Up #and i still am and so is miley. good for us #but also we've sure cried a lot in that time haven't we?

[amalgamationink]

NAPOWRIMO24 #22: the holy or the broken

#off-prompt for this day bc i simply had nothing to write for it. sorry. #instead you get a writing class assignment where we had to use 3 photos in our camera roll and write an ekphrastic poem abt them #this is about a picture of my cat; a picture of some rainbow roses i saw on the street; #and a picture of me kissing the side of my partner's head. #napowrimo 2024 #napowrimo #spilled ink #writeblr #poetry #poem #poems on tumblr #poets on tumblr #poetry on tumblr #love poems on tumblr #love poetry on tumblr #love poem #love poetry #queer poetry on tumblr #queer poets on tumblr #queer poem #queer poetry #img desc in alt text #damien.txt

[chriskhou]

My Eyes

Based on Maggie Taylor’s Admirer’s Gift

My eyes began to blur first that day at the circus I shudder to remember how much was spent On those tickets whose only memory given Is that of formless blue speaking in tongues I think it had a tail, Unless it was the light elongated By my failing lenses

If they were ever to fade completely I’m not sure I’d want to keep them. Eyes are windows and mirrors even when blurred I fear forgetting the warmth of color Or the motion coming from my screen Carrying pinks and reds and stories That I know I may forget

If push comes to shove Maybe I’ll bury them in a box Or sink them in the ocean Though I know I’ll keep them by my bedside Until the circus comes again

#poems on tumblr #poetry #original poem #poems and poetry #my poem #original poetry #poem #ekphrastic #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writing

[laelianas]

Rats

An ekphrastic poem based on a single corner of a painting by Hieronymus Bosch (corner provided)

A game of rats is afoot, The players sat in their places. No one knows the rules, Yet everyone wants to play by them.

They sit,

They play,

Yet they don’t even know the game. Winners and losers, But no one knows when they’ve won. People sit around their tin can, Not wanting to interrupt, Only listening as the rules are discussed, But ignored as the metal begins to rust.

#writing prompt #creative writing #writing practice #short poetry #poetry #poets on tumblr #original poem #ekphrastic poetry #ekphrasis

[hotwraithbones]

Continuous Cities 6 (A continuation of Italy Calvino’s Invisible Cities) by Ami J. Sanghvi

—Published in Prometheus Dreaming Magazine’s 2019 Prometheus Unbound anthology; semifinalist 🥀🌹

#amaranth #amaranthine #prometheus #invisible cities #magical realism #italo calvino #ekphrastic poem #ekphrastic poetry #ekphrasis #metaphysical #survivor #prose #prose writing #experimental writing #writing experiment #art experiment #indie art #indie author #parafiction #poets on tumblr #experimental #experimental poetry #indie writer #poetry blog #queer poetry #queer bipoc #desi writers #support indie authors #indie press #indie publishing

[glassheartedboy]

The Praying Jew

A pauper poses for Chagall, draped in a tallit that belonged to the artist’s father

He paints to preserve, to stand witness to a people he fears will perish in his lifetime

And every morning my father dons tallit and tefillin just like this

What does it mean when the subject of testimony to the dying lives on?

What does it mean when Chagall, so desperate to document us before our demise instead paints a picture in which I see my father, in all the vibrancy of life‽

What does it mean when we survive?

@glassheartedboy

#Jewish #poetry #my writing #my poetry #Jewish poetry #marc chagall #chagall #This is technically an ekphrastic poem isn’t it #Neat

[finitevoid]

Scraps

Indiscretion -- Sept 25th / Dead Fox -- Sept 19th / Let me -- Sept 21st

#my writing* #spilled ink #etc #'let me' is borderline ekphrastic poetry based on everlong by foo fighters by the way it was literally all i could listen to that day #writing has been so hard lately and I don’t know why this never happens to me lol #okay I have a few ideas as to why but whatever #it’s irritating #and I would like it to stop being difficult

[loveisadonkey]

Van Gogh Forgetting to Breathe While Furiously Painting Trees

An unfinished poem. Ready to grow, we’ll see where it goes:

[Van Gogh Forgetting to Breathe While Furiously Painting Trees]

Unable to express their fears

they burst at the seams.

So he paints them bright

without mouths

#poetry #poem #words #spilled ink #writing #work in progress #van gogh #vincent van gogh #painting #ekphrastic poem #art #breathing

[amyjasek]

Pinehurst

Polaroid Photo by author | Pinehurst, NC Golf townsand and spapines and pubscoddled traditions and legendsaround every corner My Grand-merealways spoke of azaleassparkles in her milky eyesand soft hands arounda pottery cup of chicory coffee another timeanother placeanother south This poem is a second one that I wrote for the photo, with the villanelle being shared on Tupelo Press’ website for…

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#ekphrastic writing #family #fundraiser #golf #grandmother #Memory #north carolina #on the road #out east #pinehurst #poem #poetry #polaroid #project #tupelo press #wanderlust

[ek-phrase-is]

The Lament For Icarus (1898) by Herbert Draper

The Lament of Icarus

The stories will tell you

That my wings were fragile

That my feathers were bound with wax

And the heat of the sun was my demise

But as I lay here in the laps of my would-be saviors

I find my wings intact

I am still blinded from the sun

But under my hands

They feel the same as they did

In my father’s workshop

Soft and strong and free

The stories will tell you it was my hubris

And the heat too close to the sun

But the truth is that my hands are weak with chill

My toes bitten with frostbite

My skin chafed by icy wind

Apollo is not a warm god

When he showed himself to me the first time

It was in a dark corner of our prison

Shrouded in shadows and frost

I did not believe he was the sun

He whispered the idea of wings

Into my father’s ear

As I watched from that same corner

Eager to be free

Free with him

He told me the sky would be warm

He told me I would make it high enough

If I could just make it high enough

He would bring me home to him

The tips of my fingers are wet

From the ice dripping from my feathers

And the ocean I plummeted so far into

This stone, even shaded by cliffs

Is warmer than my sun god ever was

My would-be saviors are crying, now

Nymphs, maybe, or dryads

One with her arm beneath my head

Her skin, cooler than any human’s would be

Is warmer than mine

With her hand pressed to my ribcage

She can tell my oh-so-human heart

Isn’t beating

In the shade of these ivory cliffs

I am shielded from Apollo himself

His glare

But I can still feel his gaze

He knows I am dead

Perhaps he meant it that way

Perhaps I was an idle game of gods

Or perhaps

He intended to free me

From the cold grasp of life

Into the warm cradle of death

#my poetry #my writing #poetry #ekphrasis poetry #ekphrastic poem #the lament for icarus #herbert draper #icarus and apollo #icarus

[astudyinprose]

A grace, he knew, lay hidden in their limbs / That lay, too, in the limbs of criminals.

Some Notes on Grace and Gravity,

2. Leonardo

#quotes #poetry #literature #books #writing #inspiration #morri creech #grace #gravity #art #ekphrasis #ekphrastic poetry

[creatediana]

"Ekphrasis of Barbie" - a poem written 7/21/2023

#guess what i saw last night 💕 #barbie #2023 #barbie 2023 #dolls #dactylic meter #dactylic tetrameter #catalectic dactylic meter #quatrains #ekphrasis #ekphrastic poetry #poem #poetry #digital poetry #poets on tumblr #rhyme scheme #transparent #philosophy of art #i just wanna state for the record that ive been writing poems about dollies for years if anyone accuses me of trend-chasing #i havent always put barbie explicitly in the title but she's been my muse forever

[tryst-art-archive]

Poetry Class Final Compilation: [The title's long so it's below]

(May 2011; this was previously "Untitled, 2011")

Untitled, 2003 (of which there are actually several, it turns out)

Nurses grow poppies –

            or tomatoes.

A nurse grows,

and there are lions and boars –

            birds of prey –

they have each other’s bodies –

            men with feline faces and breasts

under the bristles of hogs –

they are the aphids on our tiger lilies.

Pluck a Chinese dragon from

the branches of your staring poppy/tomato plant;

            tell me that it does not swoon!

for it is beneath your iron grasp, and –

that smug smirk of yours;

why do you detest nature? –

give me the zodiac animal, and

            I shall save him from the jeers

of your raucous bulbs. Go –

grow your flowers elsewhere, sweet nurse;

            there is no call for talking fruit.

#old writing #writing archive #TrysKits work #poetry #assignments #ekphrastic poem #Marcel Dzama

[papers-in-the-attic]

what if time / could spring from light / and soar above life / ask him / my purple friend doesn’t lie

Poem © Dianne Cikusa 2022  //  Digital art by @dreamrecycler1

~

#magnetic poetry #magnetic #art and poetry #poetslife #poets corner #poets on tumblr #poetscreed #poetsclub #higher light #original poem #celestial #ekphrastic art #ekphrastic poem #creative writing #my words #digital art #art #visual storytelling #inspiredaily