Shadow handcuffs removed
visible light vanquished
every days truth challenged
the mirror turns inside out.
In the year of 1912 what was known
understood, even accepted, began to shift.
Paradoxes emerged and the human mind
sourced from beyond these four
walls, sparse apple trees planted
last fall, the blood-red sky of
early winter morning – everything seen
rearranged into a new game, a new landscape,
like dice thrown into a cup and the chance
taken, hoping, the same rules apply
that the universe did not create a force
bending colors and geometric objects at will
against the fabric of space and time.
A being impervious to social structure
understanding, standards, moving from
each level through extended wrist and
blended hues, an alternate world
leading to another universe appears
from the vertical canvas and the being
feels at peace amidst the chaos he has created.
One response to “Jackson Pollock Poem – Black 1912”
I can feel the peace within the chaos.