Three Poems from early works by Barnett Newman.


organisms
 
you
blue
in flight
 
swooping
 
or is it
soaring
 
perspective’s the thing
 
as though
the flower mattered
 
vulval
 
flaming red

 


asemics
 
whatever it was
you said
in a scrawl
in darkest black
 
high and low
 
it has somehow been lost
in an avalanche
 
a frenzy of beige
 
a contoured
flickering reflection
of this aging vellum
our skins have become
 


song
 
castrated
 
your evolution frustrated
scored into onto paper
 
arching
 
tearing
 
raw colour swabbed
 
a myth
in the making
and remaking
 
remarking to two minds alike
 
dear god
only knows
how this song will end

 

 

John Mingay


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