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Best Ekphrasis (Ecphrasis) Poems

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Waterloo Bridge

In London fog, the river stills.
In silver sleep, it cools and fills
with cobalt mist as dawn unfolds;
above the Thames, the sun bleeds gold.
Into the haze, it pours and pools
like melting opal, liquid jewels
until the brume of morning fades
to prune the sky with unseen blades
that slice the flaming clouds in two
to frame a glimpse of Waterloo.

*Inspired by Monet's painting, "Waterloo Bridge: Sun in a Fog"

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Abbi of Bacabi

She left one day, her Kiowa village
And stood proudly in the sun
Beneath the Tabletop Mountains 
And walked among the golden sea
Of waving grass, fearless and alone
Waiting, with keen ears and sacred breath
For the setting sun to call her name
So that her spirit could cross the great divide
No more would she walk
Across my night or my day...
Except on the wind that touches my face
Or the laughter from a child
Or perhaps in the song a meadow lark sings
And surely in the pleasure of my dreams
And in slumber I can rest, knowing full well
That her spirit has entered the land of green pastures.

Inspired by t.c.cannon and his wonderful artwork

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A Depiction Of One Artist And His Starry Night

Vincent Van Gogh~Starry Night __________________________ a precarious world of indecision a dark pallet of light this brilliant depiction , it does scream , it cries out blues and yellows swirl in a maze of defeat a crescent moon suspended in a blissful evening , hangs lone in agony I rest within this small town of hope my eyes are saddened , my mind relentless in delight You are mine , my asylum , my starry night a dimension of light under this wrenching canopy of demise oh Vincent... __________________________

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                    Awomancarries a lamp through the window
to illuminate theendlesschaos 
Lot of lost souls
run one into the other
How to distinguish one from the other?
Only pain and agony
and irremediably, inevitably, cowardly
Innocent civilians

Over the horse’s head
One light bulb singles its sorrow
there is a skull in its nose
an eventuality
Is it a light bulb?
or a shining sun?
or a watching eye?
Another woman look at it blank minded
without time to pray
without time

There is a dove in shadows
like a symbol
like a witness
One flower grows next to
a soldier's arm 
can't drop the sword

A bull, a horse, and a woman screaming knives
without target
In her arms there is a dead child
a dead child, a dead child, a dead child
Somebody raises his arms on fire
fire from above and below

Dead or dying
people and animals
with eyes and mouths open
in horror, in pain
crying and suffering
Innocent civilians
Pablo thought that it happened in Guernica 
but it was Vietnam, Korea, Lebanon, Bosnia, Iraq, Gaza, Pakistan, Afghanistan...


                                                                                       Pablo Picasso


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Table for One

Insistent starkness claims a leafless day
Where morning breaks with silent calm and dread
The slope of field is framed, behind the glass
reveals a fallen tree, with jagged edge
and grassy hills now laced with autumn rust 

Inside we find a plain and cheerless room
The table sparce, an empty chair
A plate, a knife, a saucer, without spoon
One empty cup, will wait for no one there...

Ambiance of what has been, 
 ...still lingers in the air,
as amber glows, with threats of snow,
are just a hint, instead

Lonely hours, and lonely days, and lonely shadows blend
The endless songs of yesterday, slip in from window's ledge 
A meager meal will spread upon a table set for one
Where breaking bread alone without a friend
is companioned by a solitary end 

The angled sun, casts shadows deep and long
A somber mood, reflects this quiet calm 
Upon the walls, where gardens grew, are faded memories 
where yellow blooms of yesterday, are just a step away

Where, once were two, who loved and knew their sun would rise again
There now is one who sits alone the table set for one 
Where hope has gone, when morning comes...
                                       to sing a lonely song

Based on the Painting by Andrew Wyeth ... "Groundhog Day"

| Details | Ekphrasis (Ecphrasis) Poem | |

A Beautiful Woman


Her face was a constellation of perfections 
She was ravishing; beautiful beyond condemnation. 
Her voice was like many water 
Yet, it's coo whenever she sputtered. 

Her gait was just so alluring 
No wonder men couldn't help but kept gazing. 
She trod on her pathway like a goddess -
This woman I saw was priceless. 

Even her dance step sent signals to heavenly bodies 
The immortals were mesmerized - she was more than a novice. 
The flexibility of her body was as a swift wind
It moved so fast, it could not be filmed. 

When she sang, it was like that of an angel 
Kingdoms let loosed: heaven, earth and hell 
In her eyes, you'd see paradise 
In her world, great men and women did arise 

There was ample concinnity in her kingdom 
Everything was cloudless, no entrenchment of freedom 
She also spoke with authority and with great audacity 
Owning to her greatness, she created a brawny fraternity 

Loosed men and women longed to have her by their side
'Sorry, I'm not your type' she did chide 
They tried to restrain, but they were so much in love 
Her being angry at them only waxed their hearts together in her glove 

Men of great status came to have her
They were with their luxuries - they came from afar 
The splendour of her beauty got them sprawling to the floor 
The radiance of her look made their visions blur

In her, greatness was defined 
There are so many traits of hers which can't be outlined 
She kept her statute; she was a woman of virtue
Her works were known, they reached their plateau 

Of a truth, this woman is a goddess 
And this makes me remember the game of chess
At the end, the king and queen are brought to rear
So also is this woman I saw. Her name is Nigeria.

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Above the Mantel

A stretch and yawn, upon the dawn, where golden sunlight warms Venetian blinds, are wound with care, and opens up the morn The early dew is drying now, and sun lies on the hills The chill of night has disappeared, and everything is still Two doves are strutting on the path, of cobblestone and sand A clothesline strung across the yard, sails sheets against the wind A quaintness of a cottage row, hangs on to yesterday Where doves would sing a peaceful song, to welcome a new day
Inspired by a Painting... 9/1/14

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PAINTING: Fruit Pickers Under a Mango Tree--1937

Golden gleams of rays lend a refreshing glow
to leaves that wink and glimmer green
Breeze and shade cool fruit pickers' brows...
a laid back afternoon
for sun-kissed mangoes and Filipina beauties

**inspired by Fernando Amorsolo's 
"Fruit Pickers Under a Mango Tree"
-- he is known to be the painter of Philippine Sunlight


| Details | Ekphrasis (Ecphrasis) Poem | |

The Greatest Generation

Wise to emulate
“The Greatest Generation”
Depression Era
Hard times faced with dignity
Heroes rose from common men
*Entry for Brian’s Ekphrasis contest.  Based on the book “The Greatest Generation” 
by Tom Brokaw, a truly inspiring account of how people met the financial challenges 
of The Great Depression.

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haiga - Enigmatic Moment

C          R           O
a           a           n
p           p           l
t            t           y
v           I           S
e           n           h
             s           e
S           i
h           d           C
e           e           a
I            T
s            h          S
             e           e
H                        e
e           M
 l           y
d           s

Inspired by Brian Strands' Imagine contest and Edward Hoppers' "Automat"