We Write Poems is calling for prompts to fill the coming weeks, and at a loss for one, I completely just tossed this together from an experience that happened this evening. But it also fits in with (could it be another shameless self-promotion?!) what we’re aiming for at Curio Poetry, in that it deals with snippets of time. So should you choose to use this as a prompt, the challenge is to write a poem about something that takes place in an instant. Let’s say five seconds or less, to keep it objective. The train I was on earlier zoomed right through the station and made all kinds of motion effects with its passage; it was over almost before there was time to wonder at it.
I finished Mark Doty’s Fire to Fire again on that ride. More about that later.
E Train Sculpture Garden
As quickly as the darkness had come, it fled again
along the 67th Avenue platform, and the train hurtled
between the baleen of iron girders. Express track,
rocketing up the cuts and cavities of Queens,
with people arranged on the sidelines watching the train
go by, and all of them– from the woman with her neck
craned up to what, exactly, on the tunnel walls? to
the man sagging under the weight of his double bass,
clutching it like his dead lover, to the blind woman,
mouth agape, hair barely contained beneath a dirty
white cap– are in motion. But slowed down. Rendered
almost to marble by the zoetrope of the center line,
pale gold floodlights strobing them into slowness.
Theory of relativity: time is moving faster here,
in the silver carriages that have someplace else
to be, and them, they’re doing their best on the edges,
flanking this rattle and howl with an eerie fluidity:
bright anemone tendrils waving at the passing shark,
storm clouds, inexorable, piling up along the field
run to pieces by dogs. Look around the train, though:
and in here there is a stillness as well. Passengers,
sitting, caressing handrails, swaying back and forth
in time with railway jolts– nothing else. No speaking,
no glances, simply poses. Who plays a better statue,
who admires whom in a window that flashes by?
For that’s what it is: gallery colliding with gallery, until
the darkness redoubles with no warning at all.
This is a perfect snapshot of a moment in time – the poem takes longer to read than the original moment! Train journeys in particular always put me into poetry mode, so I really enjoyed yours.
When you described your requirement for Curio, I was thinking more on lines of the River of Stones – a month of concentrated poetry or prose last January – you’ll find one of mine at http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com/2011/01/10/small-stone-10-1-11/
Joseph: Thank you for introducing us to the curio form. I’m intrigued by the idea of mining a moment like this. Your language and imagery are excellent as always and I love how you contrast the stillness of the people inside the train with the movement of the train itself.
-Nicole
Curios, eh?
I was wondering what you were up to.
Nice piece. The bass as a dead lover
I have flashes like that left over from childhood, being in the car passing a house with one light on. It always gave me a sense of belonging in two places at once.
Love this poem & prompt! I already have an idea for this one so I hope we do it!
The imagery in this piece is outstanding, and I found myself hurtling through it as if on that train. The last stanza is strong. I sat there wondering what had just happened. Great job. This will be great to write to…
Joseph, this is so wonderful. Thanks for a great prompt idea.
Pamela
This is truly remarkable what you did. Wonderful prompt Idea!
stolen moments
A wonderful description of the “gallery colliding with gallery”…I mean, people watching on trains. Great train poem. Snippets of time, that’ll give us something to think about. Wishing Curios Poetry a great start to the journey.
Viv: I should have incorporated that into the prompt description, a poem taking longer than the moment it describes. But AROS stuff (and I did it too, and in July as well :) is fine too for Curio; there are no set rules at this point beyond the representation of moments.
Nicole: glad you liked it! Perhaps you should consider submitting to the journal…? :D
Barbara: the way he was clutching it reminded me of Kate Bush in the video for “Babooshka”. And Curios, indeed… have a go!
Cyn: thanks! Of course, its appearance on WWP is not a requirement for using it, but it would be nice. :)
Nan: sometimes there are these happenings that just have so much thought and sense going on at once, that it takes time to unpack them. Hopefully that mission was accomplished…
Pamela: thank you and you’re welcome!
Gautami: thanks, and I look forward to seeing what you do with the prompt if it shows up on WWP…
Irene: that line occurred to me when I was about one-third of the way through writing, and I was so excited to use it. And I will keep on suggesting: perhaps you should submit to Curio?
I think this way about passing people on the street. What’s that stride, where’s that gaze, all without a single word passing lips. Moments are big; maybe why the world is too. One match to light a single wick; interesting prompt this will be. Thanks. ~neil
The speed outside, stillness inside… the observing passenger’s blink-of-an-eye snapshots of people lined up at the stations.
…Who plays a better statue,
who admires whom in a window that flashes by?
I love everything about this poem, it pulls me completely into the scene, inside and out, I’m seeing through the poet’s eyes.
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