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Tuesday 12 February 2013

A Game of Consequences

What the artist said
(on a small brass plaque next to his exhibit)
There is nothing to
my installation
save tall mirrors,
my arrangement of them.

Stand on the welcome mat,
look into the first, blue, mirror.
You will see yourself,
but in some context
that your brain supplies.
Not standing in a gallery, 
but kissing someone
or killing someone,
or making tea or sniffing coke
or hoovering. Perhaps
you will be sleeping
with somebody unknown to you.
What happened when they opened
A visitor, J Fogg by name,
stood on the welcome mat
and gazed into the mirror
as advised, then slowly,
from an inside pocket
of his smart Italian suit,
he took a glove and, slowly still,
pulled it over his right hand
then smacked his fist against the glass.
A spider's web of cracks spread out across the mirror, and
What was later said by Fogg to explain his act.
                             /             \
                            /               \                                  
The mirror had gone black                    The glass was
bringing on a bout of his depression.        full of smakes
In the total blackness he had seen
a black dog snarling -- seemingly at him

     Most frightening
    were shadows thrown
   by people known to him             The image in the mirror
  with bright light cores           briefly changed, became
 or dew-bright eyes that          an X-Ray photograph of him
shone and followed him.         and showed dark shadows
                              on his lungs and heart,
                            that grew and switched
                          from time to time to dark
                        red, glowing shapes,
                      then back to black
Going dark, the glass
had left him with the
fear that he might sleep --
the terror of The little Death


Ygraine said...

This is truly amazing, Dave. It digs deep into the psyche to find the one thing that makes each one of us different from everyone else - our own unique way of perceiving.

I love how that blue mirror becomes a doorway into a parallel world for J Fogg. It's as if his reflection takes on a life of it's own...an out of body experience almost!

Wish I could meet that artist. I'd ask if he would make a blue mirror for me!!

kaykuala said...

An artist that dabbles in colors and a poet that dabbles in words. They are of a special breed that sees what others don't and appreciating normal things that others miss. If only there are many other Mr Foggs. Nicely Dave!


Jim Murdoch said...

A most intriguing piece, Dave. Love the construction. Should it not be ‘slower still’ rather than ‘slowly still’ by the way?

Brian Miller said...

fascinating composition...you had me intrgued from the get go with the way you put it together...i like the concrete cracks in that last bit as you tell his story...art can def see into us, if we let it...

Mary said...

Wow, Dave this is quite a write. I love every day coming here and not knowing what I will find. The moral of this mirror piece for me is......sometimes a person is not aware of what exactly it is that will make him (or the mirror) crack. Loved the presentation.

Optimistic Existentialist said...

I have always felt that poets and artists are one in the same as far as souls are concerned. The only difference is the medium. Great poem Dave.

Helen said...

Mirror shatter ~~ man shatter. This is great!

The Weaver of Grass said...

Well done Dave - you never cease to amaze me - your poetry differs so much from day to day and is always food for thought.

A Cuban In London said...

This is brilliant in so many ways. First as a poem about a work of art. The manner in which your poem works is almost like a long line of mirrors reflecting back and revealing the reader's image getting smaller and smaller. Then, the poem also works as a study of art's effect on our psyche. Some of the language you used is so good that I could almost taste and savour it ("A spider's web of cracks spread out across the mirror") Many thanks. I read the poem twice in a row and will read it again now.

Greetings from London.

Kass said...

Very intriguing.

haricot said...

I was drawn to the description how the men saw themselves in the mirrors.
The clouds, stream of consciousness, and the layout makes me invite into some special space...

Dave King said...

Yes, I agree. I think it would be great fun -- and probably more than just that -- to have the opportunity to look in those mirrors! Thanks.

Would be good, wouldn't it? Thanks for this.

Thanks Jim. Always good to hear your thoughts. "slowly still" was meant as "still slowly". He slowly
took the glove from his pocket and then, still slowly, he...

And a fascinating response, which I greatly appreciate. Thanks so much for.

Ah, I like that! Almost, the mirror will get you if you don't get it first! Yes, that appeals to my sense of fair play!

Optimistic Existentialist
I would sure go along with that. Thanks.

Mind- shatter! Really, many thanks for this: most aptly summed-up.

The Weaver of Grass
Thank you so much for the support and encouragement which you always offer - as here.

A Cuban in London
Many thanks for such a generous reflection (pun not intended!) on the poem. It's alwayd helpful to have your insights.

Many thanks

As always, a really telling comment, for which I thank you.