This is becoming an annual event
a celebratory ritual; another Cornish idyll.
In Topsham Devon
a job ends, the rain spills,
I paint all night,
sleep all day.
I think of you and the lady architect
hand-in-hand on the beach
looking for a present from St Ives,
a pebble-twin for your hearth.
Does the sea define your senses?
Do you think of me? The watery fish-woman
you never knew, dipping her paintbrush in the sea,
dreaming of bare white walls and empty rooms
touched by light, framed within, without.
But the dream fragments
knowing you (and she) are there
for the first sighting of the white picture palace
which is more mine than hers;
more my home than yours.
It is perhaps late afternoon or early evening
when you pay your grockle-dues to the sugar lady
who somehow seems familiar.
She will dominate of course;
Ben left Win for Barbara,
continuing with his sad cubist shapes
as Win's domesticity soared
and her palette expanded.
Does another Cornish sunset tinge
the sweet bright Herons with purplish hues?
Or does the falling dusk turn Turners to monochrome
as the chill cloud switches off the light until tomorrow?
Not knowing your preferences
or your shared visions
I am ready to leave you there,
hanging side-by-side
in the white sugar factory.
Now I can run
ozone-pissed and flying-footed
over the cliff's edge.
Down, down where rocks become pebbles
and pebbles become shingle.
To the sea, the sea, the seaweedy sea.
In Topsham Devon
the rain spills,
I write all night
and dream by day
I am a Botticelli venus
adrift in my shell-boat on a Cornish sea;
not drowning
but waving.
Comments
skinner_jennifer | October 29, 2010 - 08:49
Hello seashore,
what an absolutely gorgeous poem. I love Devon and
Cornwall, have had many a good time there. You paint
such a wonderful picture and Botticelli Venus adrift
in my shell-boat on a Cornish sea; not drowning but
waving. I love these lines.
I think this poem is pure genius, so artistic.
Actually thinking about it, I don't think I have a
favourite line, the whole poem is great.
Thankyou for the memory, and for such a beautiful
read. May St Ives always live on in our hearts.
Jenny.
shoe | October 29, 2010 - 10:10
I adore it! I suspect there are artistic references that are beyond my knowledge, but that does not spoil my enjoyment. I love these lines especially -
"Does another Cornish sunset tinge
the sweet bright Herons with purplish hues?
Or does the falling dusk turn Turners to monochrome
as the chill cloud switches off the light until tomorrow?
seashore | October 29, 2010 - 10:44
Thanks Jenny and shoe for your appreciation. Yes shoe, there are lots of artistic references which is why I was a bit nervous about posting this as I wasn't sure it would stand up on merit alone. This was another one I laboured over for a long, long time! `Herons' is reference to Patrick Heron's work which adorns the walls of the entrance to Tate St Ives so glad you liked that bit! The other artists mentioned are Ben and Winifred Nicholson and Barbara Hepworth.
Just editing to say I have Stevie Smith to thank for the last line!
RachelPatricia | October 29, 2010 - 19:49
Breath-taking, seashore.
Like Jenny, I'm struggling to find a favourite line in this, just too many to try and single one out. Superb, inspiring, and a pleasure to read :)
Rachel xx
kim.rooney | October 30, 2010 - 00:12
Hi seashore,
Any poem that mentions Turner is fine with me! But I'm particularly taken by the seeping whiteness - from the Cornish light to the drained out relationship. All set against 'the white picture palace.'
kim.rooney | October 30, 2010 - 00:17
*
seashore | October 30, 2010 - 09:06
Thanks Rachel and Kim. I'm humbled by your comments but encouraged too as I tend to be a `sporadic' writer as I don't find the process easy at all. I was so concerned that people might not `get' this piece despite the fact that I think I probably worked harder on this than anything else I've ever done.
Thanks also to the eds for cherry-reward!
ScoZen | April 15, 2011 - 10:06
Seashore, hello.
Another late dip into your palette of work.
I really enjoy your tales, and, I happened to be in Topsham the other day but didn't see
"...a Botticelli venus adrift in my shell-boat..."
Keep my eyes open next time.
seashore | April 15, 2011 - 16:31
Ah, a clue as to where you live, ScoZen. Thank you for reading my `palette'...