(Photo of Croagh Patrick, Ireland) "The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth." (Psalm 145:18)
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Introduction:

My photo
Current: Danbury, CT, United States
Welcome! A few years ago, I discovered an application that artists employ in their works to bring cultural awareness to their audiences. Having discerned this semiotic theory that applies to literature, music, art, film, and the media, I have devoted the blog, "Theory of Iconic Realism" to explore this theory. The link to the publisher of my book is below. If you or your university would like a copy of this book for your library or if you would like to review it for a scholarly journal, please contact the Edwin Mellen Press at the link listed below. Looking forward to hearing from you!

Announcements

I will present or have presented research on Sydney Owenson (Lady Morgan) or my semiotic theory of iconic realism at the following location(s):

2023-2024: I will be researching and writing my third book on iconic realism.

April 2022: American Conference for Irish Studies, virtual event: (This paper did not discuss Sydney Owenson.) "It’s in the Air: James Joyce’s Demonstration of Cognitive Dissonance through Iconic Realism in His Novel, Ulysses"

October, 2021: Sacred Heart University, Fairfield, CT: "Sydney Owenson’s use of sociolinguistics and iconic realism to defend marginalized communities in 19th century Ireland"

March, 2021: Lenoir-Rhyne University, Hickory, North Carolina: "Sydney Owenson (Lady Morgan): A Nineteenth Century Advocate for Positive Change through Creative Vision"

October, 2019: Elms College, Chicopee, Massachusetts: "A Declaration of Independence: Dissolving Sociolinguistic Borders in the Literature of Sydney Owenson (Lady Morgan)"

07 September, 2023

Enough of an Artist... Thank you, Albert Einstein

When I was participating in the Poetry Bus poetry workshops, one of the members asked us to follow these directives: 
1:  Think of (or find) a sentence. 
2: Delete the second half of it. 
3: Think of as many different ways of finishing it was you can. 
4: Now, delete the first part of the sentence, leaving only a collection of "second halves". 
5: Play with these and concoct a poem out of them. You'll probably want to mess about with   the grammar, leave bits out, put bits in, etc. Feel free. 
6: Post the poem.

I used a quote from Albert Einstein, and below is the concoction.

Photo of my window's view in Reims, France

I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. ~ Albert Einstein

I am Enough of an Artist...

To make my way through this airport
and appreciate the artistry
in each human utterance and smile
creative impulses within,
felt without

To hear music
in the laughter of children,
the voice of God
in the knowing timbre
of an elderly sigh

To feel this train race pass French villes,
A phantasmagoria of anxious yearning
in the muted colors of graffiti 
blended with determined drops 
of spring rain

To enter a darkened hallway,
and know that the painful hole
bitten into my lip from fear
will heal, 
bleeding into fortitude

So, I taste the blended harvest
in a bowl of vegetable soup
and ready myself for another day
with cherished goodness
of a night’s rest
upon clean, white sheets.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

12 comments:

  1. "bleeding into fortitude" - that's a brilliant line, Jeanne. Likewise, the "knowing timbre of an elderly sigh". You had no trouble at all with this, did you? Of course, being in France has to get those juices flowing, so you have the advantage. Well done!

    Kat

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  2. This does a good job at illustrating heightened senses and focussing on details. It's totally not the way I'd do the same job but I can appreciate what you've done. I especially like the soup section...the blended harvest.
    x

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  3. I love the beautiful journeying in this poem, and for me the crux was that penultimate stanza.
    Thank you for images and insight.

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  4. Hi Kat: Well, yes, de Gaule airport and the train to Reims did provide some rich fodder, as they would for any artist. Thank, much!

    Rachel: My mind is a-mush with jet lag right now, so most likely, I'll be revising this a few times. Drop by later, as I begin to focus, and you might see a totally different poem. ; )

    Hi Titus, I was so turned around at the De Gaule airport, getting lost in a parking lot, passing more than a few dodgy characters, then miraculously hearing a familiar voice call out, "Jeanne!" only to finally arrive at my hotel room, with no lights in the hallway, I really had bitten a hole inside my lip, but it's healing slowly now.
    (Later, I discovered it was the customer's job to flip on the lights... who'd have thunk?)

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  5. No need to revise - it's just fine as it is. "A phantasmagoria of anxious yearning" - been there. Vivid writing this week, very nice.

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  6. I'm also loving "the knowing timbre" line.. more beautiful words.. :-)

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  7. Thank you, Argent. Actually, I did revise it by beginning each stanza with an infinitive to match the original statement by big Al. Phantasmagoria is one of my favorite words, had to throw that one in again. ; )
    Thank you so much, Ms. L'eauchats! Listening to that 'knowing timbre' in an elderly person's voice, provides the opportunity to gain wisdom.

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  8. Like the way the scene keeps changing: it's full of ideas. I didn't know where it was going next.

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  9. Sort of the way I felt in de Gaule airport, Bill. Great prompt! Thanks for providing it. : )

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  10. Nice, Jeanne. It does move as if following your travels. I lvoe the ending.

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  11. This is indeed a journey both internal, external, emotional and physical
    But these are the lines that will stick with me
    "To enter a darkened hallway,
    and know that the painful hole
    bitten into my lip from fear
    will heal, bleeding into fortitude"

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  12. Karen: Thanks so much! It has taken me two days to finally regain the sleep I lost, but worth every minute. :)

    Gwei: Thank you, kindly! This past week's journey has been just that: internal, external, emotional and physical. Oh, and my healing lip really has bled into fortitude. Amazing, huh?

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