Pandora
This is the latest submission for Spark 11. To me, things seemed a bit chaotic and random in the piece, and so I think I captured that pretty well with this image. Read the poem that inspired this below.
Pandora, December.
2009/12/01by Greg BrownPandora’s outside smoking a cigarette.Hope will be a moment.“My hands are cold, Pandora,What will you give me in return?”I will write each sentence with a different pen.“What will I receive in return?Is this you or your brother”Epimetheus opened the box,I will do what my brother has not.Scilicet ut speres nil nisi quad liceat.“Hope should not be directed towardthat which is forbidden.”*Begin by speaking.“Here is the elemental–The fire,” Pandora says.We were created from fireHere is an anchor,you may feel its weight upon you.Here are the curves to shape,“Each line has a point.”This is how I will graph the elementalI will take your X.(Here– a beginning.)I will remove my Y.(Here– an ending.)“Pandora, where are the numbers?What is the count of feeling?”Pandora watches,Hope delays.This is the first step, Pandora says.Hope cannot fail, she says.Pandora on the couch,chasing shadows on the wall.Hope is still in delay, standing.The image has not washed out.-only it’s been delayed.-only the shape is.-only an X and a Y.To forgive is to take away.To forgive is to steal.To forgive is to remove the lidbut do not cast it aside, PandoraHope is what you were given.
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