The Poem-
In my poem Longing for Freedom I have juxtaposed two lives: one is an old man whose declining health makes him a prisoner in his own home; the other is a hunted fugitive whose story is unfolding on the evening news. Both men have one thing in common, a longing for freedom.
The Art
Which came first, the chicken or the egg,; or should I say, which came first, the poem or the art? Occasionally I am inspired to write a poem based on an image, but usually I create the art after I have written the poem. It is a difficult process for me, trying to recreate an image that is already in my head. At times this process restricts my creativity, I am forced to use details I have described in the poem. The exciting thing about solving these types of problems however, is that the restrictions often stimulate the most creative solutions.
Longing for Freedom
The living room is a gold leaf
Victorian museum.
Saint Peter hangs
near the window.
An old man rests
in a gentleman’s chair,
an aluminum walker
stands just within reach.
A wisp of stale air,
like a cool basement
stairwell, blows
from a fan.
CNN runs in a loop,
a manhunt continues
throughout the mid-west.
Bred to hunt rabbits,
an overweight beagle
waits the remnants
of a Jimmy Dean breakfast.
His master lets him eat
from his hand.
He turns on a light,
the lamp shade is studded
with rhinestones.
He straps on a blood pressure cuff
he purchased at Walgreen’s.
It is tight on his arm like the grip
of a Roman Centurion.
