Portrait

Bob, , , , 
You sit. 
Eyes fixed on the wooden
Fireflies.

A deserted city for a headband.

Shoulders like Heisenberg's uncertainty 
Principle. 

And a tattoo
Of wings on the bottom of the feet.
(Not visible in the picture.)

You think, 
Did the universe inflate, superfluous
Of compass, all in one go of it? 

This much is clear.
As it is uneven and croaked like meaning.

It is this ramble of inkling all your
Life, that rattles the frame.

20 thoughts on “Portrait”

  2. koalaperson25's avatar koalaperson25 says:

    There’s definitely something in this poem- but I’m not yet sure what. On first read I was drawn to the line ‘shoulders like Heisenberg’s uncertainty’- but I think the tattoo stanza is my favorite here. Something about the voice of the speaker solidifies itself there.

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  4. in that this is called PORTRAIT, I kept that in mind while reading the poem and it felt like progress and movement towards the ending, “inkling all your Life, that rattles the frame.” I never like pictures because when I think back, it’s the picture with the frame, with borders that I remember and not the actual moment which had no limits.

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    1. A friend once told me that you had to put a handle on something if you wanted to pick it up. That’s never sat right with me. Maybe there are things we should just let be and not try to pick up.

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      1. Very interesting thought, a great antidote to a control freak and maybe important when reading poetry. I often try to “put a handle” or figure out a poem when sometimes it might be better to just enjoy the beautiful and unexpected combination of words.

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  5. Portrait of the artist as a poem… this is imaginative how you describe parts of the portrait. I felt a current of “off-kilterness” with the uncertainty, uneven, and ramble descriptions. Making me think that the person isn’t boastful with a cheesy grin at the camera. But those wings on the feet. Man, that’s good stuff. Perhaps the person took a flight after the picture was taken.

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  6. “It is this ramble of inkling all your life, that rattles the frame.” The imagery throughout is wonderful (especially for me the deserted city for a headband) but it’s this last stanza I really love. Such a loaded few words.

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