When I first started this blog, I labeled it as a conversation on poetry. However, the last few days seem to be more prosaic, and not much of a conversation. It was my intention of posting a new poem each day in an effort to get into the habit of writing poetry each day, and welcoming feedback on what I had written. Well, I soon found out that working full-time doesn't leave a lot of time to write poetry on a daily basis. It is far easier to write about my thoughts in prose. While this was not the original intention of the blog, it keeps me writing, and hopefully will provide me with ideas for new poetry in the future. And one of the problems with the "conversation" part is that it takes at least two to have one. And, so far, I seem to be talking to myself. I kind of feel like Will Smith in the movie, "I Am Legend." In case you haven't seen this movie, it takes place in a New York totally empty of people, at least sane ones, with the exception of Will Smith, who tries to make a life in a city, alone. Yes, that is certainly what this conversation feels like. But I can't account for the participation of others, just my own part in it. So I will continue to talk about the things that impact me each day, and offer some of my poetry up for comment. And hope that the "comment" part comes along sooner or later.
One of my poetic efforts has to do with a three part poem I wrote a little over a year ago, and have been going back to it from time to time ever since. I have not offered it for publication before, and there have been only a few poets I have shown pieces of it to. I think though that the time to "air" it might be now. It was written as a "Christmas" poem of a very different type. Inspired by two entirely different sources, the first being Handel's Messiah and the other, our seemed indifference to the plight of those in need at a time of year that brings to mind carols, decorated trees, beautifully wrapped presents, holiday decorations and holiday feasts rather than the poor, the homeless and the suffering. Yes, I know what you might say, we give to charity more at this time of year than at other times. That's true. What I observed though was that most people would rather drop a copper in the pot of a Salvation Army Santa ringing a bell outside of the stores we go to buy our presents, then to actually look at the recipients of our largess face-to-face. For some reason, that Christmas season, more than any other before, brought this issue to me in living color. So I wrote these three poems and called them, collectively, The Triptych of the Lamb.
First, let me share with you the definition and purpose of a triptych in medieval art, and then explain how I adapted it to poetry. I have also included a picture at the top of this post called "The Weyden Crucifixion Triptych."
A triptych (pronounced /ˈtrɪptɪk/ TRIP-tik, from the Greek τρίπτυχο, from tri- "three" + ptychē "fold") is a work of art (usually a panel painting) which is divided into three sections, or three carved panels which are hinged together and folded. The middle panel is typically the largest and it is flanked by two smaller related works, although there are triptyches of equal-sized panels. (From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)
As I said, my inspiration came from two sources. The first, Handel's Messiah is composed of Biblical quotes from the Old and New Testament that prefigure the purpose of Christ's birth and death. The second was from my own experiences. I have met bag ladies and homeless men much like the two I describe in this poem. The seventeen year old young man is really two young people I have known. One is blessedly still alive and is doing better than he once was. The other, tragically, died in exactly the manner the young man in the poem did.
Some might think that comparing Jesus Christ to a seventeen year old heroin addict is close to blasphemous. However, the one New Testament quote, from Matthew, that I use to tie this all together, explains why I made that choice. “Lord when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?” Matthew 25: 44. Actually, while the second half of that quote is not included in this poem, it is this part of the quote that is the true message of this poem. "Whatsoever you do for the least of my brethren, that you do unto me."
I will post the first panel of this triptych tomorrow. I will post the other two panels on the following two days. I am hoping that these postings will open a conversation. At the very least, it will allow me to see what I have written more objectively than I have when I first wrote them, and maybe that objectivity will help me to make them better.
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