Sunday, December 23, 2007

Art and Poetry, Poetry and Art

...And so often the twain shall meet. Being a moderator for the ZNE Verses forum, I decided I should join the ZNE group Artists and Poets. Artist Jodi Barone runs a separate blog for this group, one of her two blogs.

I didn't know I would find already-blog-friend Laurie Marshall of Loud Life fame with some cool poetry and a fabulous journal. I am also enjoying other ZNE friends' creative work and inspirational art- published there to jumpstart poetry.

What I also did not expect was to find myself featured there on the home page so soon, with one of my first works, shown there to evoke well, something, in someone(s). You can see it here

Jodi asked me what it meant, and first I told her the usual: it means whatever anyone sees, blah, blah, blah. But then I decided to figure out why I had made it as I did. Certainly, Teesha Moore's style inspired me and also Karyn Gartel

I also said I find that those who are too too outspoken and judgmental and presumptuous usually have to eat crow later, and to that I say, "would you like fries with that?" In other words, dig in.

Finally, I told her I might just eat all five cupcakes in one sitting and in numerical order if I want, and all of my family, friends, colleagues, customers, etc., whom I find have treated me differently since gaining a little weight can just eat crow. Or they can eat cupcakes with me. So enough of that. That is exactly why I hate explaining (or even thinking about) what my art means.

On the poetry subject, joining the group made me dig out my earliest poems, from about age 16, when I wrote a bunch. I was lucky enough to get one published by Indiana University in a book of mostly adult poetry, called Indiana Writes, sponsored by the National Endowment for the Arts. Several other poems, including this one, were also published in the local newspaper, at that time called the Anderson Herald.


You sat there figuring the square
root of a multi-digit number.
There was a calculator in its case,
but only a worn down pencil and
a stack of paper was good enough
for you.

Your face mirrored your mind
working, and I was in awe of
your anger as another wadded up
sheet of paper was sent flying
to the trash can. If it wasn’t
math, it had to be history or
science, and of course weekends
were reserved for English.

I always said, “How brilliant.”
Or “That’s wonderful.” Then I
Hopped to the pencil sharpener
So you wouldn’t be without a
Sharp point. Other times I went
Off in search of more paper
For you.

That was a year ago and you’re
still the great genius you
were born to be and me-
well, you made me wonder why I
wasn’t an algebra book or
a grammar lesson or even a
pencil sharpener that you could
turn and turn until your pencil
was resharpened.

Gina Smith

1 comment:

Angela Hoffmann said...

hey!...pass me a cupcake would ya...I want number 3 and 4 please...and it isn't like half the US isn't in the same boat..kwim!