Example of Elkphrastic Poetry
Subway, ca. 1934 by Lily Furedi
Interception MarkTansey
Cape Cod Morning, 1950
Cafe'
The Girl I Left Behind Me by Eastman Johnson
So, first take a look at the example of elkphrastic poetry by William Carlos Williams.
After that, take a look at all of these paintings. Choose one and then answer the following questions.
1.List the first words that come to mind when you look at this artwork.
2. What is happening in this artwork? What is the story being told?(PLOT)
3. Who or what is the subject of the painting? How would you describe them?(CHARACTER)
4. What is the mood of the artwork? What sounds, smells, feelings tastes could you associate with it?(SETTING)
5. How does this artwork connect with you personally? Why did you choose it?
6. Now that you have closely observed the artwork, how would you summarize its main idea?
After you have completed the questions, go back and circle any words or phrases you might want to incorporate into a poem about the artwork. Consider using these tools when writing your poem:
alliteration
metaphor
personification
repetition
rhyme
simile
I did mine on The Girl I Left Behind. Usually I don't like rhyming poems, and this is kind of cheesy, but oh well.
ReplyDeleteOver the seas and across the plains,
My lover has gone and with my heart slain.
Off to the battle did they go fight,
And taken with them my love and my light.
They gave me the message one fateful day,
That the across the seas in the ground he lay.
Now I am haunted by times of the past,
Trying to hear your voice whisper in the wind blowing through the grass.
Ever longing am I to see your face,
And feel the warmth of your loving embrace.
Days of the past always flood my mind,
As I wish I was not the girl you left behind.
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DeleteOn a side note, I wrote this for Creative Writing this week. I had a picture that I wrote it about, but I cannot figure out how to post it. Anyways, I was really proud of myself because I usually can't write poems. But I just wanted to share!
DeleteDeep in the Forest, beside the Stream,
My lover waits there for me.
On the snow my dress falls,
As the gentle, cold wind blows against my cheek.
I see you there, handsome and charming,
Waiting for me deep in the Forest, beside the Stream.
Secrets are told through careless whispers,
As we cast nervous glances over our shoulders.
We kiss goodbye and part our ways,
Having to wait until our next secret meeting.
I trudge through the snow as my feet leave their mark behind me,
And the tail of my dress leaves a trail back to him.
Deep in the Forest, beside the Stream,
My lover waits there for me.
I run back to you again and see you there,
Hanging in wait, handsome and charming, standing on air.
The backs turn to me now, away from my love,
It looks like our ruse is finally done.
I take my place beside you, way up high,
Hold my breath, and whisper goodbye.
Deep in the Forest, beside the Stream,
My lover waits there for me.
What is the title of the piece of art? I like this poem, specifically the repetition because the speaker seems to be trying to convince him/herself that her lover will be waiting. Speaker keeps repeating that thought, like self talking. I really enjoyed this. I read it a whole bunch of times. Nice work on this. Thank you so much for sharing it with us!!!
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DeleteAbbey, this poem was lovely. You captured the feelings of loss very well. Many people lose loved ones to war and never get to bury them properly. This is a very common experience, which makes it all the more saddening. I really liked how you included the title of the painting in the poem. I felt like that helped tie the two pieces together.
DeleteAbbey, this is awesome! I especially love the contrast between the title and the actual poem: the title is from the man's point of view, while the poem is from the girl's point of view. I also really like the ambiguity of this poem. I feel like this could be interpreted many different ways, even though the theme of love and war is very prominent. This captures the heartbreak of war and separation in a very real way, especially when considering the perspective of the girl. This is beautiful!
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ReplyDeleteI did mine on the girl staring out of her window.
ReplyDeleteThe summertime beauty dissolves,
Planting nails in the hearts of the longing.
But time is a thief, stealing slowly away
The memories that are now forgotten.
Year after year as children grow,
She remembers that time won't wait.
Watching her life travel away
Down a river that flows unceasingly.
After a while, her children all gone
She sits instead of stands.
There's nothing to do to bring back those times,
She tries to hold them near.
Ten years later there's no one there
The window stands alone.
Tick tock tick- she died with time.
They wish she would've learned.
Don't wish for what won't happen
As if you'll get it all.
She stared through a barrier at the lives of others
And forgot to live her own.
Grace, this poem was beautiful. I really loved how you captured the wait this woman endured. I also really liked how you described her life. When we get caught up missing something, we often forget to live our lives. From an analytical perspective, the onomatopoeia was really great. I really liked how well it fit in and how it captured the time you were describing.
DeleteGrace, your diction really made this poem beautiful. I can relate to this because many times I get so caught up watching people around me enjoy their lives and blessings that I often forget to enjoy my own. You are right when you say life is like a "river that flows unceasingly." That captures why it is important to begin living your own life.
DeleteGrace, this is sad, but so true. I can see it happening to my parents as my sister has already moved away, and I'm getting ready to do so. We used to do really cool things with the five of us, but now we're down to four, and in a matter of months, it'll be three. While it is sad for our parents, it's cool that we get to leave and become our own person. I feel like when I move, I'll never even think about how my parents will be sad and lonely. But this poem really reminds me of their upcoming pain.
DeleteMy poem is inspired by Interception by Mark Tansey.
ReplyDeleteShe dances always
Twirling, spinning
She laughs with me
I see her grinning
Yesterday she's fierce
Scathing, biting
Her voice trembles
From her fighting
She cannot stay with me
Escape is her desire
Suddenly she flees
Running without tire
I chase her down
With friends close by
Our trap is set
She will not fly
Ashley, I like how you interpreted the painting. The way you took the image of the woman in the sky in the painting and made it into A story about a woman leaving was really interesting. I think you did a great job of taking the abstract ideas of making them into a realistic poem.
DeleteYour use of diction gave this poem a beautiful twist. Your use of rhyming also made the poem very mellifluous and easy to read.
DeleteI chose the painting Subway by Lily Furedi because I first hand know the awkward silence and way people avoid each other on the subway. Through my two weeks of riding the subway everyday in New York on my internship, I made one friend the whole time. And it was only because we bonded over this crazy criminal coming in trying to get money from us.
ReplyDeleteThe silence speaks loudly
As you avoid my gaze
Strangers must be strangers
Here on the subway
Perhaps I'll take a glance at the news
So we can talk like friends
But you are just moving away
Faster than this subway
We travel together
But we are so far apart
The more miles we cover
The more miles we grow apart
The silence is like a monster
And it swallows us all whole
Oh God please get me off
This unfriendly subway
I never knew you had an internship in New York! That would be so much fun but so scary at the same time. Your poem definitely describes the majority of most subway rides. I have only ever ridden on one a few times in my life but I always end up sitting by a stranger and I talked to every one of them. I guess I got lucky! I love your simile about the monster because not only is silence a monster in this case, but the people looked so unfriendly!
DeleteI chose the subway. Please don't judge me.
ReplyDeleteCrowded in the tube
But no one touching
Lives intersecting
But never connecting
Where are they going
Destinations unknown
Their stories are in their eyes
Happy, tired, sad, lonely
Smashed together
Identities unknown
Rich, poor, black, white
The tube, the ultimate equalizer
The doors open
End of the line
Please exit to the left
Life's intersection...lost
Giz, I thought this was a really cool poem. My favorite line was "lives intersecting, never connecting." How true this is! Not just on the subway, but in general. So many days, we go through our lives seeing the same people again and again. But how many times do we really stop to get to know their stories - even if just a small portion of them? This is a little far out there, but it makes me think of funerals, and how although many people show up to them, each person has only had a portion of their lives "intersect" with the individual. No one can know every detail of our stories, but I think that if we all took the time to "connect" with people more often, we'd begin to understand each other much better. Good job! :)
DeleteGizzy, I really like this poem because it's whole meaning is very true. There's so many people that we come in contact with, but will never see again, but for a brief moment we were part of their life. I think what makes this poem really interesting is the fact that we can be so close to people but yet be so isolated.
DeleteI chose "The Girl I Left Behind," but the title is irrelevant because I viewed the painting in a very different way.
ReplyDeleteDrowned out by incessant whispers of doubt,
Her wooden heart was hacked open
With a gleaming silver pick-axe.
The blade of their silent disapproval
Invading her bloodstream,
Infecting her soul.
Wind caressing her pallid skin,
She answers the plea of the beckoning meadows.
Seeking more than this life of insignificance
Like a raging fire,
Engulfing every endeavor
Turning it to dust.
The desires of her soul, tugging gently at her toes,
She advances towards the whispers.
In her hand she grasps her fate bound in leather,
With blank pages thirsting for the ink with which she will write her story.
The darkness that eclipsed her
Is brushed away softly.
I likehownyou completely disregarded the title of the work. I think that helps the creative process, as you're not constrained with what the artist thought of the work. Anyway, I thought your poem was really cool. I like your line near the end where you say, "blank pages thirsting for the ink with which she will write her story." That is what everyone strives for, but something that not many people get to do. Too often, people let other people write their stories, which is really sad. So anyway, I just wanted to highlight how much I like that one line. Overall though, I liked the message of the woman trying to find herself and write her own story (I'm sorry if I completely butchered the meaning of your poem. That's what I got out of it. But what do I know?) it was inspirational message, and that was a job well done.
DeleteThis is absolutely beautiful, Mary! The way it is set up makes the story so much more daunting because the lines by themselves really set the point apart from the rest of the stanzas. If you read only those lines left out it is really amazing as well and it makes sense. You should submit this to the daily press.
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