“The Moody Woman” [zalMania CodeX]

“The Moody Woman” 36″x24″ oil on canvas, c2010 Zalman Berkowitz

The Moody Woman

The color composition is modeled after Salvador Dali’s “The Rose” which I interpret to be about desire or “Eros” (Dali’s piece pictures a lush, moist red rose floating in a hot, parched desert…) this painting is paired with a poem, another reflection of my own desires in life and in love. The ‘moodiness’ seems most obvious to me when my desires are different than the reality I am experiencing… I can’t always put a finger on it, but there is sometimes this ‘unsettledness’ that keeps me striving to understand, to experience more depth, to ‘achieve’ satisfaction. Maybe it is that to experience Desire is to be unfulfilled. Anyhew, here’s the poem (really sounds better live, in my opinion. Have a listen in the archives at zalMania.com, and tell me what YOU think.) Cheers, Zal.

The Moody Woman

Sits… unsmiling.

More than woman she is

Muse she is

Haunting as the train’s Sound

Through the desert, only six

Short, walk-able

Easy

blocks from a place

you used to inhabit

A place where

your Lover’s eyes drank

the soul of you

without tomorrow

Daily, Hourly, Nightly—

-The train Sounds again with plaintive rhythm,

Calling. Warning. Demanding:

One more small death

And you turn away.

U Turn away because there is more… you remember.

Remember running up the stairs to

The bed you used to share

Remember Home.

Remember you heart in your hands as you returned

That first Key.

Kissed politely, She

Tasted of red wine. Wine drank with another as

They sat on the covers.

Remember Bed.

Remember Comfort.

Remember Friendship—

Gone.

When,

Strong Leaps the Muse as you throw yourself,

Pens and brushes

furious

Madly screaming inspiration

Gladly

Canvas and pages fill

All forms exist in will

And you follow.

You follow to forget

You follow to forget

The sorrow

You follow to forget that

golden delicately delicious truth:

Forget that

you are alone,

Still.

Forget that

you love again

Forget that

you never stopped

Forget that

you are beautiful

Forget that

you cause pain

Forget that

you are late

Forget that

your time is borrowed

Forget that

you owe me

Forget that

payback’s a bitch…

But

you don’t live here all the way, anyway.

You live on the journey, not the page—

And there’s no end in sight:

You watch the dawn light vanish starry night

Wish flight

On Angel Wing this glorious thing,

but:

It’s not yours, anymore.

Be-ing. Process. Become.

you have yours,

Soar.

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