Poems by
Carlo S

Still Life

a poem by Carlo S

As the book says…
To the untrained eye,
The bottle of wine sits on the corner of the table.
The rusty candelabra, the half empty glasses clink
With the bowl of bananas on the centre.
It was just a glance, says the untrained eye.
Or so that I cannot paint you anymore, like the
Oils on canvas, acrylic on wood, tempera on paper.
The eyes on the table, settle unhushed…

Untrained? from poetry’s plate, we see
This desire to create: i.e. to build a world-
One Worlder: a table on which the bottle of wine,
The rusty candelabra, the half-full glasses, the
Bowl of bananas,
Stay where they want to stay, lie down where they choose to
Behind, in front… Around… and so on… and so forth.
Or on a tray of prepositions,
which keeps on,
which keeps on…