I believe that each of us is given one sentence at birth, and we spend the rest of our life trying to read that sentence and make sense of it.
—
Li Young Lee
Three Poems by Wanda Phipps
BOMBlog’s Word Choice features original works of poetry, fiction, and art. This edition of Word Choice, selected by Peter Moysaenko, features poetry by Wanda Phipps and art by Sarah Walker.
Sarah Walker, Apogee IV, 2008, acrylic on paper, 17 × 15 inches. Courtesy of the artist and Pierogi Flat Files.
from Silent Pictures Recognize the World II
16
bursting white pot
red pink purple blue
arcs of color
blue green white stones
pebbles circle the bottom
like jelly beans
ready to pop
color curling
out of the frame
bursting against red brick
the center a pink opening
artificial
constant
fixed gaiety
stiffens and freezes
her face in a
constant beauty
queen smile
stuck in a
mask of joy
one face
the opposite
of a hidden
one
17
red coiling
snake or
winding salamander
with blossoms
or the clubs
symbol on
a deck of cards
curls on
splotches
of brown
beige dingy
white walls
terraced rocks
boulders
and a diamond
patterned rug
outside corner
garden with
white wooden
door barred
out of nowhere
leading nowhere
unexpectedly
this secret spot
pops open on
the hilly streets
of a Spanish village
the spot
where we met
that night
where that
bit of night
sky fell on us
stars and all
near the church
scent of flowers
everywhere
green
except our patch
of dirt
site of kisses
20
a glowing circle
surrounds bare torsos
cloth falls in folds
and gathers around
a waist pale plaster
above anchoring back
bent in search
of contents
of a goblet
or in protection
from the hanging
tree limbs above
bare but menacing
dark lattice
blue/gray sky
bleeding through
one pale statuette
duplicated 3 times:
one standing
tipping her tiny
urn clutching
a goblet in her other hand,
one sitting cupping fruit
the third still
slightly crouching
fingers touching the
lips of her goblet
a trio of
ladies frozen
in motion
3 muses interrupted
a silver oval flashing
image of angular rooftops
bisecting the leg
of an antique chair
they stood
on the corner
he was yelling
she was
statue still
frozen in shock
fear sad recognition
noticing the sound
of a drill
breaking concrete
the quality of light
as his anger ran
over her
Wanda Phipps is a writer and performer living in New York City. Her publications and recordings include Field of Wanting: Poems of Desire, Wake-Up Calls: 66 Morning Poems, and Zither Mood. She has received awards from the New York Foundation for the Arts, the National Theater Translation Fund, and others. She has curated readings for the Poetry Project at St. Mark’s Church and has written about the arts for publications such as Time Out New York and PAPER. She is a founding member of Yara Arts Group.
For more by Sarah Walker, visit her page at Pierogi Flat Files.