Tuesday, 3 September 2013

New poem by Paul Surman for gallery reading on 5 October.


A red drift veined in the marble table top,
the plump lustre of those grapes.
Studied inflorescence in a vase,
that knife not carelessly laid down.

The spiralled curl of half-peeled fruit
placed purposely to test the painter's art,
the drop of water that bulges inside
its surface tension. They are not the story.

After obsessive precision, long hours
of patient lingering over details,
they are merely a collection of surfaces,
shine and sheen, transparency and glint.

But painted objects lend weight to the mind

as if they or thought could be grasped

Painting by Claire Peeters 

Room 48

No comments:

Post a Comment