Weiss & Laureta – Feb. 15

A. Garnett Weiss and Isabelle Laureta traded art and words. Isabelle shared this image, entitled “Fear,” with A. Garnett:
In response, A. Garnett wrote this poem:

Antigua

She is caught, cannot escape
the tendrils of fate
that grasp at
the small bones of her wrist.

So sharp, so hot the pain.

She tries to stand but
feels no sand below her feet.
Waves pull her further out.
The shoreline recedes.

            She was rescued once
            by a man who knew how to run
            but who stayed for her laughter,
            her beauty, her music.

            He can’t come to her now.
            Needs her to help him
            excise the stone in his heart
            where only his love used to be.

Salt stings her eyes
as she tries to see
his face, his smile.
She slips below the surface.

So sharp, so cold the sea.

* * * * *

A. Garnett shared this poem with Isabelle:

Woman of ice, woman of glass

She’s a vessel
Hand-blown glass      
Austere, without edges or colour
Fragile, yet able to contain…

              She sees herself in icicles
              that drop in the sun’s stare
              If she touches them
              they shrink from her warmth
              If she tries to catch them in watercolours
              they lose their chandelier luster
              Their corrugation disappears
              with her clumsy hand, her untrained eye

So is it with words
Their clarity calls to her
A story, a poem tease
              with a phrase, a sound
Then elude her as
              she starts to write them down

That she could lose the chance
              frightens her back to the empty page

              where she waits to be named

In response, Isabelle made this image, entitled “Constantly Fickle”: