Manet

Manet

 

As they march me onto that bare, dirt lot

and I turn to face the soldiers in a line

do not raise my arms in protest

but draw their rifles near so nothing is left to chance.

When the triggers pull, I fall

upon the muted ground I sprawl

hand on chest to stay the wound

with which I am undone.

The beauty of my death disclosed

in lidded eyes, sedate repose

in charcoal, cream and black.

Reviews

[W. Barrett Munn]

I am a big fan of Edouard Manet. You have done him proud.

Winston

[Montag]

Thank you Winston. Since you're a fan of Manet, you might be interested to know the 2 paintings I had in mind in writing this: The Execution of the Emperor Maximilian and The Dead Toreador.

[Ken e Bujold]

Montag, love the defiance tinged by stoic realization of one's mortality. A small suggestion though. I would advise a change of tense in the 2nd verse to make it run tighter. change I fall to I fell, then 2nd to upon the muted ground sprawled, and 4th line to with which I'm undone.

Don't know why I missed this in my first read, but it stood out to me this time

Ken e

[Montag]

Ken, thanks, this is the kind of thoughtful critique I like but rarely get.

On changing the tense, I think I will keep, for two reasons: 1) I lose the rhyme of 'fall' and 'sprawl' (I like to throw in a rhyme now and then) and 2(more importantly using 'I'm' instead of 'I am', while it may be more concise, loses a kind of stately rhythm, a kind of slow, funereal drumbeat that I like.

Thank you again for giving attention to what I’ve written.

[Ken e Bujold]

not a problem montag. and you can always expect kind, constructive criticism from me when I believe it will make a work stronger. A fresh set of eyes is one of a poet's greatest resources.
Ken e

[Ken e Bujold]

love this poem Montag. The quietly understated defiance of a man facing fate. What we all hope will be our own way of departure.

once again rewarded for stopping by
ken e

[LJW]

I love this.
The combination of the art of poetry and art itself with your nod to Manet.
I saw you there, in repose, in those somber colors.