112th Annual Conference - Riverside Convention Center, California
Friday, October 31 - Sunday, November 2, 2014

This page is about the 2014 conference. For 2015 conference info, go to PAMLA 2015.

The Psyche’s Stirring: Ekphrastic Poetry and Its Aiding in Understanding Art and Ourselves

David Clark, Independent Scholar

David B. Clark is a writer, poet, and adventurer from Denver, Colorado. He spends his free-time reading, writing, traveling, and partaking in various outdoor activities. He will graduate this autumn from Metropolitan State University of Denver with his Bachelor’s in English with a writing emphasis and a minor in Tourism. 

Proposal: 

Dream Easy

I did not mean to run

away—skittering

like pond skaters

up

here, dreaming of my tusks—

but I am.

 

Why am I acting

so cowardly?

I can remember

 

the sun before it set.

I can remember you—

all clothed, ridged, like your skin

was simple and so stone

would rush you awake

if it were to taste

your milky let-down—

I can remember you.

 

Do you remember

when you rode in my goblet?

Our parading at Saint Anthony—

now you are as nude as he.

Yet you lie

drifting, dreaming,

drinking at your fantasies

like this reality

cannot stir you from

imagined bliss.

 

It started when I saw you sleeping

from the island.

I had gathered the fruit,

                pomegranates

to break open and snap

the sweet, tangy seeds

on your alabaster skin.

 

I wanted to paint you

all red and purple sometimes.

 

But when I got to

your floating little landscape,

a bee buzzed out of my trunk—

whirring around one fruit as I dropped the other—

I turned.

 

I heard a fruit turn fish,

excavate his guts

to a tiger

and then the tiger

jettisoning another                         tiger

nearly wielding a rifle.

 

I left before the bee’s

buzz faulted.

The rifle, before it a sting.

 

With the moon watching

my legs—

those brittle, flimsy pillars—

the only things

that ever touched

 

anything. 

 

East Hastings

 

Our

Shoulders,

Necks

                                Used to

                                Fit so well

                                Together.

Your

Back,

Feet

                                Never used

                                To turn away.

                                Walk

My

Heart,

Mind

                                Through your

                                Window so I

                                Know

Why.