Reflections
ISBN 978-0-9972629-1-9
154 pages in color
copyright©2017
Poets' Choice Publishing
REFLECTIONS is the latest collection of poems in Elisavietta Ritchie's long and distinguished career, a master poet reflecting on visual masterpieces.
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Reflections, Paintings and Poems from a Poet's Gallery by Elisavietta Ritchie launched by Poets Choice Publishing and the William Meredith Foundation
'REFLECTIONS is the latest collection of poems in Elisavietta Ritchie's long and distinguished career, a master poet reflecting on visual masterpieces. I think of William Meredith's poem from HAZARD THE PAINTER which tells the story of 8-year-old Erica, a "factory of will," who when she returns from dancing class, "she dances!" Long may the dance continue for Lisa Ritchie and all her devoted followers who love how poetry can buoy the human spirit in the hands of such a fierrce intelligence and curiosity.' — Richard Harteis from the Preface of Reflections.
PRESS RELEASE
Reflections, Paintings and Poems from a Poet's Gallery Launched by Poets Choice Publishing and the William Meredith Foundation
This will be the third collection of Elisavietta Ritchie's work Poets Choice has been privileged to publish as a unique offering by the William Meredith Foundation. The foundation is dedicated to continuing the legacy of the former US Poet Laureate through publications and educational programs in the arts
Washington, DC, November 19, 2016 –(PR.com)– Poets Choice Publishing is proud to announce the publication of Elisavietta Ritchie's third collection of poems with the press, (previous two collections with the press include: Babushka's Beads: A Geography of Genes Poets-Choice Publishers (2016); Guy Wires Poets-Choice Publishers (2015)). This remarkable collection, rich imagination and a talent for metaphors perfectly represent the unique voices the foundation wishes to present to the literary world. Here, a reader sees a poet at the top of her game, and game is the precise word for the often whimsical accounts she gives of the painting on which she reflects.
Poets often employ this symbiotic relationship with the visual arts, a literary device known as ekphraksis used to convey the deeper symbolism of the corporeal art form by means of a separate medium such as poetry. The poet contemplates a work of art and responds with a lifetime of experience and curiosity to imagine the world found in a given painting.
This happy collaboration between artist and poet enhances a reader's understanding of a painting, as well as taking joy in the work from a verbal prospective. These poems are a gift to all of Lisa Ritchie's devoted followers who love how poetry can buoy the human spirit in the hands of such a fierce intelligence and curiosity, as well as new readers unfamiliar with her work or the work of the William Meredith Foundation.
Edward Hopper: Nighthawks
A Customer speaks
At midnight I enter the diner.
The lady there has copper hair,
scarlet dress, décolleté.
Beside her, the man wears
a dark suit, dark tie, blue shirt.
He keeps his fedora on indoors.
Does he lack manners?
Or else he expects a quick exit.
Yet his cigarette
was just lighted, white
coffee mug untouched.
His nose is sharp as the dent
in his hat for whatever news
soda jerk or the lady convey.
Her left arm rests on the counter,
fingers so close they could touch
his right hand. They do not.
Alone at the opposite counter
I too wear my hat indoors,
rearrange the condiment bottles.
The soda jerk, tense, divines I can't pay.
Yet one cup free, he may reckon,
is worth his life, or mine.
I stir in all the sugar and cream,
pat the gun in my jacket
head out for the bus.
Pablo Picasso: The Tragedy
is knowing this
the beach between
sea with no boat
shore with no home
the lost cannot
be remade
night is chill,
feet bare, clothes thin
child's fingers too small
to seize what might be
behind the bluff
dogs strain on their chains
Paul Gaugin: Self Portrait with Serpent
Therese Morbilli speaks
…Now! Café au lait with my artist love,
that one with fake halo floating above.
He's just returned from some duty-free isle
where weather's too hot and bras not in style.
He shares his oil paint and turpentine smell—
I always fear everybody can tell…
My lover's herpetological bent
unnerves me, but now my beauty is spent
I'm relieved his eyesight has gone askew…
Black lace will hide years! Hèlas, quite a few…
Before either crosses that River Styx
we set out for one more quick caffeine fix—
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