Tag: poetry
Dante’s Inferno, Dali Style!
by Sinisterhand on Feb.22, 2010, under Sinisters
This past weekend, Maria and I had the opportunity to see Salvador Dali’s interpretation through paintings of Dante’s Inferno. The Fayetteville Museum of Art has had the entire collection on display since February 13th and it runs through the 28th. It was a small display and crowded, but seeing these works of Dali was a nice experience in such an out of the way place as Fayetteville, NC. I was intrigued by the style of the works with which the famous surrealist used and was not closely familiar with the collection or its history. It was a controversial project perhaps in scope even as controversial as the writings of the Inferno by Dante. There we also four other original Dali works on loan from a few Fayetteville residents. I was impressed with the detail of each piece and the mix of pen and watercolor. I have always been very fond of Dante’s Inferno and was very pleased to see this interpretation of such a classic piece of literature. A friend of mine from work also saw the exhibit and comparing notes was rather enlightening. He was more educated on the history of the works and was able to articulate more of the story behind the whole process. If this exhibit comes your way, it is definitely worth going to see.
-Jason
Who will answer?
by Sinisterhand on Sep.03, 2009, under Life
From the canyons of the mind,
We wander on and stumble blindly
Through the often-tangled maze
Of starless nights and sunless days,
While asking for some kind of clue
Or road to lead us to the truth,
But who will answer?
Side by side two people stand,
Together vowing, hand-in-hand
That love’s imbedded in their hearts,
But soon an empty feeling starts
To overwhelm their hollow lives,
And when they seek the hows and whys,
Who will answer?
On a strange and distant hill,
A young man’s lying very still.
His arms will never hold his child,
Because a bullet running wild
Has struck him down. And now we cry,
“Dear God, Oh, why, oh, why?”
But who will answer?
High upon a lonely ledge,
a figure teeters near the edge,
And jeering crowds collect below
To egg him on with, “Go, man, go!”
But who will ask what led him
To his private day of doom,
And who will answer?
If the soul is darkened
By a fear it cannot name,
If the mind is baffled
When the rules don’t fit the game,
Who will answer? Who will answer? Who will answer?
-Ed Ames
