The Poetry of
Jack Scott

Mute, You Silence Me.

Mute, you silence me.
Bright, you darken me.
Smart, you numb me.
Gone, you haunt me.

Before you go away for good
I need to capture you
on canvas
while I can
if I can
if you will let me.

Can you stay still long enough
to cast a lasting silhouette,
more than just a flickering shadow
of your essence
for me to render into permanence
and, more important,
will you?

I sterilize the studio,
whitewash the gallery,
turn up the lights,
wash the drapes,
set out cheese and wine
to bait the setting
for enticement.

Once the work is done
the painting’s gone,
or is it?
I saw you
see me
painting you,
then painting painting
white onto a whitened wall.
I have truly kidnapped you.
and now hold you in limbo.

Can you still see me
gazing on in adoration
long after only some of you has gone?
I’ll hold you longest in my mind
whence unborn paintings come,
where all lost paintings, painted, go,
lost once they’re created.
Origin is destination.

L52 ®Copyright 1974 Jack Scott. All rights reserved.