Thursday, July 3, 2008

Puzzle Piece 3: Tapestry Revisited


Painting and Words by Rick Mobbs
Poetic Line Arrangement by Glenn Buttkus

In January 2008, Rick Mobbs began to write a story simply entitled "tapestry", and certain parts of it surfaced later in several places on his blog. I was struck numb with the power and beauty of the language. A few of these pieces of prose, this tumultuous narrative that is so vivid it feels almost autobiographical, I gently rearranged as poetry, because it had that face, that dimension clearly to me. Now I present another shard, a piece of the puzzle.

Glenn

PUZZLE PIECE 3: TAPESTRY REVISITED

I was thirteen
when puberty brought
new wings
of ability
to my fingers,
and deepened
what my eyes
were able to see.

There were tunnels
and caverns
within my body
that gurgled
like the caverns
at the edge of the sea.

With the arrival
of sex,
new floods
of awareness
filled
the previously unknown
chambers within me,
as if the earth
suddenly canted
and salt water rushed
through rock
in newly available courses.

In the tumult
of one
of those inward moments,
I found a shrine
that I recognized.
I must have created it;
however unconsciously.
I had constructed it
out of memories
and dreams
in a distant
and root part
of my soul,
and then
I had shut the door
to it
and left it
alone.

When?
I did not know.
How could I
have constructed a place
so sacred
and complete
and yet
not remember it?

The alter was empty
of imagery
and surrounded
by layers of veils
that tricked the eye
and fluttered
and shimmered
endlessly.

The room was hung
with familiar tapestries
and I recognized them,
not only by touch
but now also
by sight.
That work is
eternally
pressed into me.

I had lost my silver eyes,
seeing would always be strange
but I trust
absolutely
what I know
through my hands.
Now I am able to see
into the world
surrounding me
and sometimes,
to fall
into the looking.
I am sighted now,
and this has opened
new abilities within me,
so that when I tumble
within myself
I fall into more
than colors
and sounds
and textures.

If my life
to that point
was a quiet circle,
easy and comfortable,
it was
after puberty
jerky,
energetic
and bewildering.
My quiet circle expanded
in all directions.

Rick Mobbs January 2008

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This man Mobbs continually astounds me by the depth and width of his creativity and talent, as do you, Glenn, in your ability to take words, in any form, and transform them into tapestries of poetic sensibilities imbued with its own depth in understanding of human nature and nuance. I love seeing these new collaborative works; you complement each other splendidly. Stay inspired!