Leaving Portmeirion After the painting Portmeirion by Richard Lang Chandler*
I.
I was distracted by the green dome,
the blue door, the golden alcove,
the purple skies, the clouds of moss,
laurel, artichoke and tea, and by the swaths
of razzmic berry, by the jasmine,
blond and olive ochre in the stones
of the bell tower. Then, as the sun set,
I saw the dome again, transformed in azure,
celeste and electric blue. Only the house
with the Kharahafu roof, cinnabar
walls and slate blue windows looked weighed
down by the secret prison in the basement.
II.
The summer sun’s so bright
I can barely make you out
on the balcony of the white
gabled building, but when
I see you again sneaking
behind the human game of chess
and the bandstand, I’ll pretend
you’re someone else, a man
in a mock black turtleneck
carrying microfiche dots in
your back pocket. Later,
I’ll find you on the beach,
attach the sail to the mast
we cut from a fallen tree.
The light will dart over the waves
like a hummingbird feeding
on monkeyflowers & sage.
Everyone will rise up
as we sail for a far shore lined
with flags of tangerine & lime.
Eric Glassgold
*See https://www.amma.art/en/content/feature/138/artworks-164-richard-lang-portmeirion-north-wales-2001/
I.
I was distracted by the green dome,
the blue door, the golden alcove,
the purple skies, the clouds of moss,
laurel, artichoke and tea, and by the swaths
of razzmic berry, by the jasmine,
blond and olive ochre in the stones
of the bell tower. Then, as the sun set,
I saw the dome again, transformed in azure,
celeste and electric blue. Only the house
with the Kharahafu roof, cinnabar
walls and slate blue windows looked weighed
down by the secret prison in the basement.
II.
The summer sun’s so bright
I can barely make you out
on the balcony of the white
gabled building, but when
I see you again sneaking
behind the human game of chess
and the bandstand, I’ll pretend
you’re someone else, a man
in a mock black turtleneck
carrying microfiche dots in
your back pocket. Later,
I’ll find you on the beach,
attach the sail to the mast
we cut from a fallen tree.
The light will dart over the waves
like a hummingbird feeding
on monkeyflowers & sage.
Everyone will rise up
as we sail for a far shore lined
with flags of tangerine & lime.
Eric Glassgold
*See https://www.amma.art/en/content/feature/138/artworks-164-richard-lang-portmeirion-north-wales-2001/