#Ekphrastic Poetry

[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

[unpolished-ink]

Ekphrastic poetry is new to me

#vincent van gogh #sunflowers #art #ekphrastic poetry #poetsandwriters #poems and poetry #poets of the world #micropoetry

[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?

[pagdalumat]

The Arrest

by J. Daryl Alcantara

Before reaching the point of no return, Jesus first felt their distance closing.

Judas’ beard like tiny fingers of tiny hands, holding hostage the air around them.

Jesus knew this, of course. His death could not be more imminent than in this very moment of agony, and then, suddenly, of softness.

It was an odd choice, even for him. Was it supposed to be a greeting? A goodbye? He could have just pointed at Him or tapped His shoulders. Why seal their fate with a kiss? He was taken away

by the Roman guards before the answers could find their way to Him. One can only speculate for so long in the darkness of Gethsemane.

#ekphrastic poetry #thewritersguild #poetry #jesus christ superstar

[amalgamationink]

a eulogy for my son, who will not hear it

I would say “you’ll understand when you’re older”, but I suppose therein lies the rub. I would explain myself— tell you the grown-up truths of regret and shame and survival, and the fact of the matter being that all children are inevitably failed by their parents so, forgive me, but you’re lucky that I got it out of the way so quickly and made a spectacle to boot— but I should have done that when you still had ears. And anyway it’s rude to talk with your mouth full. Something else I would have taught you if I’d only had the time.

If it’s any consolation, they will not look kindly on me. I will be the monster who consumed his son, who knelt in a bloom of copper and salt and tore the babe to shreds. There is little room for nuance when I am stuffed so full of flesh. Did you know that it was you or me? Parenthood is about sacrifices, and I couldn’t bear to lay myself upon the altar. Forgive me. They are welcome to their judgement. When they discover the knives in their backs, gifts from their precious lambs, they will understand. Or they won’t. I won’t ask.

It was you or me, you know. You had my eyes, my mouth, my hunger. These were gifts from my father, once, and he fell at my hands for them. Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, forgive me — I could not play his part for you. Your gifts were mine to give, and mine to repossess. The revolution ends with me. I have done what I must to survive you. Part of you will survive with me, resting somewhere in the caverns of my gut. We will share the blame. You couldn’t help your birthright. I couldn’t let you keep it. Believe it or not, this hurt me more than it hurt you.

I picture you serene. Better than picturing you headless, bloodied, between my fingers. In the depths of me, there is a quiet peace, drowning the sense memory of the snap of your spine. The fruit of my loins had tender skin, and it burst ripe and sweet between my teeth. Even in my grief, my mouth waters. They will say that my consumption has cost me the right to mourn, but nothing else can hurt you now. I have saved you a lifetime of little agonies. It was violence as an act of love, a shield from harm. It was you or me. It had to be me. You understand. I know you do. Forgive me.

(inspired by Goya's painting, Saturn Devouring His Son).

#went off-prompt for this day. just wasn't feeling it rly and i had written about this painting for class from the perspective of an outsider #and my professor was like ''a rly interesting poem would be one from the perspective OF saturn in this painting.'' and i went ''bet.'' #i'm not sure if this is good Per Se but it was an interesting exercise. #spilled ink #spilled poetry #napowrimo #ekphrastic poetry #ekphrastic poem #saturn devouring his son #abuse poetry #poets on tumblr #prose poetry #prose poem #tw abuse #tw cannibalism #napowrimo 2023 #napowrimo day 6 #damien.txt

[devoted-to-the-gods]

We learned about ekphrastic poetry today in my creative writing class, and so of course I wrote about Bernini's Apollo and Daphne statue. Here is my poem from the perspective of Lord Apollo.

Slyly

She glides away from me

A chase that carves into my core

Aching, I reach out for her.

Rustling, arms outstretched towards the sun

She is soaking up the rays, the leaves of her hair reaching up to be kissed by it

Frozen in place

Roots sinking into the ground

I clutch her waist.

Screaming out for mercy of this cruel fate

May all my loves end like this?

A bitter song of despair.

#Apollo #Daphne #Poetry #Devotional poetry #ekphrastic poetry #Apollo devotee #Apollo deity #bernini #obsidian posts

[helenewate]

Beautiful Death

—after Botanica No. 23 by Gail Potocki

Bursting.

I am bursting at the seams. From within me, a rustle of leaves.

My skin severs, there becomes two of me. It stings, this gruesome separation of being.

Cold air floods my open wound, and I begin to bleed.

Blooming.

A buddling, from every last pump of my heart; each beat, a sproutling in the cavity.

Desecration pollinates my bloodstream. Death parrots the stench of beauty.

Begging.

There are roots in me and they are plenty.

I cannot contain them all, who must I beg for mercy?

Even in death, they will beautifully defile me.

— helene wate, aka olivia garrett

#helenewate #my words #helene’s poetry #ekphrastic poem #ekphrastic poetry #poetry #horror poetry #horror poem

[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

[maryannmccarra-fitzpatrick]

I could not share all the images here….check the HVMOCA website or come see the exhibit at the opening reception on the 17th!!!

#peekskill ny #peekskill new york #peekskill n.y. #city of peekskill #hudson valley #hudson valley ny #city of peekskill new york #westchester #hudsonvalley #westchester county #call for submissions #HVMOCA #studio theater in exile #ekphrasis #ekphrastic poetry #dance #short plays #choreography #monologue

[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

[flum3n]

Nymphs Finding the Head of Orpheus - painting by John William Waterhouse - poem by me

#original poetry #poetry #writblr #aesthetic #waterhouse #john william waterhouse #art #original poem #ekphrasis #ekphrastic poetry #orpheus #greek myth #myth #mythology

[arrynnat]

Wrath--an ekphrastic haiku

by Arryn Liu 

Grey storm clouds close in

upon the red horizon; 

the mountains collapse. 

(The Great Day of His Wrath, John Martin 1853) 

#poetry #TUMBLR POETRY #ekphrastic poem #ekphrasis #ekphrastic poetry #John martin #the great day of his wrath #spilled ink #haiku #haiku poetry #haiku poem

[spockandthings]

Here are the Screencaps I used for this lil ekphrasis I did for one of my autumn courses about the Dreaming's throne room and which you can find here 🫶

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #the dreaming #sandman tv show #dream of the endless #ekphrasis #ekphrastic poetry #sandman fanfiction #the sandman fanfic

[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

[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

[wolfie-wolfgang]

A new Fibonacci poem inspired by the art of a friend.

Fight by Nikola Stanković I first worked with my friend, the Serbian artist Nikola Stanković, in 2018, when I opened a virtual art gallery, Glinka Gallery, in the virtual world of Second Life where my avatar uses the virtual name, Wolfgang Glinka: http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Seaforth/85/198/29 Nikola Stanković’s outstanding paintings formed our first exhibition there, where I was…

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#art #art and poetry #artistic collaborations #Colin Bell writer #Colin Bell&039;s poetry #Ekphrastic poetry #Fibonacci poetry by Colin Bell #Fibs #LashVV #Nikola Stanković #Poetry #Second Life #the Fib Review #virtual worlds #Wolfgang Glinka #Wolfgang Glinka poetry