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September 15, 2005

Alien in the Artwork

Alien in the Artwork

If God forgets you,
did you really exist?

The landscape painted
around my life
loses a dimension
and falls flat before me.

Perception is lost
and I fall prey
to the illusion of depth
as roads become walls
trapping me between frames.

Familiar strangers
speak in stop-action
disappearing when they turn
to talk amongst themselves
(abruptly re-appearing
when they turn again to face me).

Desperate for perspective,
I run to the edge of the canvas,
only to find my flesh
periodically rip in neat seams
as I get paper-cuts
from people in profile.

Surveying the scene,
I realize these shoal souls
with tinny voices
are not the foreigners in this land
and that I have become
the alien in the artwork
desperately seeking depth
in a shallow world.


Andrea said...

What wonderful imaginative images!!!I see them passing in front of my eyes.... like a film.

Your poems are so powerful Max!

I can imagine choreographies with many of them.

Thanks and wow!!

cargwaps said...

yet another beautiful poem. i love the way the stanzas build up for the conclusion. as andrea said, it is very powerful.

i wonder, aren't we all aliens trapped in the artwork we ourselves have created? i, too, wish to achieve liberty. the papercuts on my own soul are proof to this.

i can't wait for your next poem! ^____^

_Soulless_ said...

It pays
(and it pains)
to be different
(or to be an outcast)
by choice
(or by sheer inequity of circumstances).


These images you create to complement your poems are faaaantastic.

Lothario Art said...

Visual Poet -- you are.

When lines and words meet in perfect symmetry... when does the artist and the poet standout from each other?