Aphrodite

I'm doing my coursework final piece in A2 art at the moment, and i've studied Cy Twombly to get to this point, his pieces include a certain amount of classical referencing, like the metaphysical poets and loads of other poets, writers and artists throughout history.
Anyway ! This piece is called Aphrodite (Greek goddess of Love)
The little notes at the end will explain references.

Aphrodite

She says you will be mine,
my Helen, my adored.
I will take you
and
begin the battle
with the stone lion brothers whom roared,
the Flames will soar,
and so it will end
In Lead hate.

Aphrodite, the promise as her bait,
to follow the thread of Fate
as even She should
with Anchises, father of the beginner of the Empire, Trojan warrior, he who made Her mortal,
Aphrodite's bane,
Her Fate,
Her Love,
Her Life.

Ex 5th/2nd

line 2 Aphrodite was one of the three goddesses involved in the judgement of Paris, she won the golden apple.
line 5 the battle of Troy
line 6 the two brothers, Agamemnon and Menelaus (Helen's husband) Agamemnon inherited the family palace at Mycenae, over whose door is the carving of two lions. (the lion gate)
line 7 Troy was burnt when it was captured by the Greeks.
line 2-4 Aphrodite is fated (by her father Zeus) to love a mortal
line 4 Anchises is all of the things (the Empire being that of Rome)

Lowry's Lions, Berwicks Ramparts, The house of the blue gables, The Contented Sole

9th of October - All of these poems were written on my trip to St Andrews Open day on wednesday, we stopped in Berwick upon Tweed, a place where the artist Lowry (whom worked majorly in charcoal) worked and lived.
We walked the walls and i jotted down these pieces, I haven't had time to touch up on them, so these are as they were when i wrote them walking about, so don't expect too much !

We saw a grand house, which was derelict the time Lowry was there, and is now scrubbed up so as to honour his love of the place. It is present in many of his paintings/sketches. Outside the door were these two stone lions.


Lowry's Lions

Charcoal outlines the coastline,
it glistens in the setting sunlight,
staring, gazing with solemn, crazed eyes
the lions stone gaze cries
for a long-distant loving master
whom was their caster,
into charcoal on paper
into time,
their saviour.
Ex

Standing on a section of the ancient stone walls that surround the majority of the city, protecting it from the sea (and in places the scots) at around dusk, I could see cormrants (black water birds) what seemed to be a iron smelting building, with a huge red brick chimney, and the sea.


Berwicks Ramparts

From the stone
you see the waters edge
the sand, the weed,
a light house, white, red
on light light blue
and a colossal red finger of fire, from iron,
points to the sky.
It splits the lines of houses
from the sea.

Blackbirds hover,
finding the last of lights catch,
calls mix with the waves, crashing, loud,
but subdued, cowed by the walls, quietened,
less threatening, protecting.
Ex

Around the corner from the done up derelict house of Lowry's day, was -ironically- a derelict town house, with lovely blue gables, sided with a nicely done up one, with quite a boring however neat front.

The house of the blue gables

From the broken windows the eyes stare,
watch as tourists totter past
in the suns last glare.
They just gaze quietly, sadly,
beside their grand neighbour
whom wields the history, power.
When they are seen as lower,
though gables blue
they no longer house
their happy owner,
though past lives on in the broken windows
eyeless stare.
Ex

After Berwick, we headed past Eyemouth, where we stopped at a harbour side pub/restaurant called 'The Contented Sole'.

The Cotented Sole

The pubs open door breathes
warmth and music
onto the balmy harbour,
and the people settle into the cosy leather seats,
fish battered, sigh heat as sliced,
and the beer fizzes,
as the sun sets the people fill their hungry bellies,
with the possessions of the sea,
white fish in bubbling batter.
Ex

The Story of the Blind Man

At birth, his eyes weren't open
but his mind was introduced to a whole new world,
he lived as if he hadn't been robbed of a important token,
he lived, and to him new things unfurled.

He stood for hours and listened
to things we never hear,
he couldn't see your faces but he knew you through and through,
he didnt need to stand near.

he never saw the colour,
of natures million hues
but the way in which he could discover,
noone ever knew.

He understood everything,
took his loss in his stride,
of the senses he had, he was the king.
Everyone, of him should hold a high pride.

Ex

-EJ