Poem in Response to The Sunday Whirl

27 Jun

I am fond of this, so after havering over the lateness — because of travel — decided to post anyway. What the heck!

Gauguin’s Domain

He left Paris,
where he felt trapped behind windows and walls,
as if buried in a granite tomb.

He found an island of jasmine and demons,
a daily montage of sunsets and bird whistles,
an island of ample hipped and breasted women,
where his flawed soul found freedom,

a place where he found the paintable
in every scrap and stone.

There are forty other poems to read at The Sunday Whirl, so head on over, if you haven’t been.

You will see me again for an unexpected Your Serendipity@Thursday Thoughts, tomorrow; and, again Friday for the roundup.

Happy reading and writing.


Posted by on 27/06/2012 in exercises, poetry, writing


Tags: , , , ,

28 responses to “Poem in Response to The Sunday Whirl

  1. Hannah Gosselin

    27/06/2012 at 9:47 pm

    Quite the island he’s found for himself!! Ha! I like this, too, Margo!! Great descriptions! 🙂

    • margo roby

      27/06/2012 at 10:11 pm

      🙂 Thanks, Hannah. I hope he was happy with what he found!

  2. carolisle

    27/06/2012 at 10:14 pm

    What a wonderful way to go from the specific to the abstract. It as if the prompt was write about Gauguin. Please excuse my boldness, I can’t find your email 😦 address so I am going to give you my weekly writing prompt here for you to check out. let me know what you think. Carol

    • margo roby

      27/06/2012 at 10:26 pm

      Carolisle, Finding how to put my contact info on my blog is the top of my list when I settle down next week. Meanwhile: margoroby at gmail dot com

      Thank you for your comment on the poem. i enjoyed writing it. I’ll check your prompt out and get back to you!


      • margo roby

        27/06/2012 at 10:31 pm

        Carolisle, That was easy. Absolutely, I’ll put you into the Friday mix. We haven’t had a photo prompt in a while and I do like them! Your layout and instructions are fine. Don’t worry about a badge. I can either use your header, or see if I can come up with a WW of some sort. Not being artistic, that might be beyond me, but I can do the header!

  3. Annette Mickelson

    27/06/2012 at 11:58 pm

    Margo, you have outdone yourself. This is wonderful. You captured him so well — I felt like I was looking at one of his large hipped and breasted paintings. I re-read it quite a few times just for the enjoyment of the words.

    • margo roby

      28/06/2012 at 11:42 am

      Annette, thank you. You started my day off just right with your comment.

  4. vivinfrance

    28/06/2012 at 1:17 am

    I’m not surprised you’re fond of this: you have found the perfect setting for those pesky wordle words. A lovely poem.

    • margo roby

      28/06/2012 at 11:43 am

      ViV, I almost didn’t write. The words did nothing for me until I was sitting in the middle of an airport coming or going. I forget which.

  5. Misky

    28/06/2012 at 4:09 am

    I am so impressed with this piece. Very clever use of the wordled words, all tied up nearly into a mini-biography. Very nice, Margo.

  6. wordsandthoughtspjs

    28/06/2012 at 7:25 am

    Nice, Margo. A vivid scene of the artist. A lovely poem.


  7. Mary

    28/06/2012 at 8:26 am

    Loved visualizing the island of jasmine and demons! Fascinating contrasts make for interesting poetry. Enjoyed the idea that so much could be found on this island, things that even Paris did not offer. Glad you posted, even though a few days late. The time for words has no expiration date.

    • margo roby

      28/06/2012 at 11:46 am

      Mary, I love this: ‘The time for words has no expiration date.’ Thank you.

      I thought of Bali first when I saw demons and jasmine — plenty of both there. Then Gauguin popped up.

  8. Veronica Roth

    28/06/2012 at 10:18 am

    Ah, good old Gauguin. Lovely little poem Margo; the last line makes me think of last October standing in front of Still Life with Mangos at the National Gallery. (Never take me to an art gallery without a lot of Kleenex.)

    • margo roby

      28/06/2012 at 11:48 am

      Veronica, I grew up practically, in art galleries, museums, churches… my mother and grandmother had a passion for them. Talk about adding dimension to our lives. My daughter works at the Smithsonian. Can we say jealous?

  9. whimsygizmo

    28/06/2012 at 12:34 pm

    Love this, Margo. Just gorgeous.

    • margo roby

      28/06/2012 at 12:46 pm

      Thank you, de. I’ll be going out for margaritas and Mexican this weekend [and a winery, or two]. I shall raise a glass your way.

  10. markwindham

    28/06/2012 at 12:53 pm

    name of island please, must buy a ticket. Will not tell Kathy about the ampleness until we get there. 😉
    To be ‘inspired by every scrap and stone’, would that not be cool…so much to write…

    • margo roby

      28/06/2012 at 1:00 pm

      That got a real out loud laugh, Mark. try Bali 🙂

      Don’t you find that you are inspired by almost every scrap and stone unless too tired or stressed?[which I realise is a problem you haven’t conquered yet, because of little things like food and a family — some years later, as he leaned on his cane, he surveyed the scrap of stone, and thought… damn, what was it he thought?]

  11. pmwanken

    28/06/2012 at 10:43 pm

    margo…you’re the one always saying there’s no such thing as “late” — and I’m so glad you took your own advice and posted. This one IS a gem…and amply so. 😉

  12. purplepeninportland

    28/06/2012 at 10:47 pm

    A bio out of a wordle. I am impressed. Loved the smooth flow of the poem.

    • margo roby

      29/06/2012 at 5:00 am

      Thank you, Sara. It came out of the ether.

  13. JulesPaige

    29/06/2012 at 11:48 am

    I enjoy how you infuse reality into your poetry.
    My short entry is here (folks seem to like that better than the continuing story…but there is link to that at the bottom of ‘Crust’:


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