I walk on Sunday morning along el Paseo de Montejo,
Looking at the paintings that artists have spread
Along the wide sidewalk, some rest on fabric and blankets,
        Others are matted only by grey stained concrete:
        A still life with mangoes and oranges
        That is a stiff and formal study in color,
        Form, light and shadow;
        A landscape of a ruined henequen hacienda,
        Where only a brick smokestack is standing unscathed
        In bright afternoon sunlight like an obelisk;
        A portrait of two Mayan women wearing white huipiles
        Sitting silhouetted in sunset shadows of a doorway.

I walk along el Paseo de Montejo and sit on a wooden bench
Under a flamboyant tree, trying to see people from my life,
Past and present, as if they were paintings:

        I see her face as a portrait washed in blue light
        So weak that it barely emerges
        From a Mars black background;
        His face, as a pencil sketch
        Of an old man that Leonardo might draw,
        And she is a nude that Renoir would paint,
        Shaped like ripe fruit, naked and smiling,
        Surrounded by bright color and a light that shines
        From the high upper left corner of my memory.

Doug is the founder of Funky Dog Publishing and his publication credits include Writer's Digest, Poetry Magazine, Southern Cross Review, Purr Magazine, The Denver Quarterly, The Pittsburgh Quarterly, The Orange Room Review, The Adirondack Review, Pif Magazine  as well as many others. Doug has published 17 volumes of poetry, which are featured on his website.

Through clear images and a simple vocabulary I try and communicate complex concepts.  The poem explores the images of memory in a painterly manner and mixes themes from my personal life with the life of the city around me. It is like when a painter adds a bit of yellow paint with blue paint.




Copyright 2009