Jackson Pollock, Black Flowing, No. 8

Jackson Pollock, Black Flowing, No. 8

does it come from,
that feeling:
standing on the edge
of a tall building
holding the railing
looking down
what is it inside us
that wants to jump?
From the center of the chest,
this impulse,
to jump,
off the edge of the known
like a cliff diver
through clouds – air – water
It frightens us
this feeling
making us step back
but what if we stay
at the edge,
and feel
the uncoiling,
letting go
through a sky of knives
Falling through time and
plans and promises
and life.
Letting go,
falling from blue into grey
And what if we don’t fall?
What if we fly?

This was written in response to a promp by Karin at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.  The Pollock image is from Tess at Magpie Tales writing group.

38 thoughts on “Falling

  1. Ha. This is such an interesting perspective, Mary. First I love the Pollock– he is so wonderful and suits this poem so well–secondly, the poem itself loops about like the Pollock– so ibteresting to think of knives In the air rather than the hard ground– the fact is that we often are as fearful of flying as falling– so hard to let go of the known– even if we dont like it! Anyway, cool poem– thank you so much for participating. Stay well! K.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Perfect progression here, taking us through several stages of thought, finally into the heart of the matter–your free-verse form echoes so well the way the poem weaves its message. Good to see you writing, Mary–and I love this new blog–much more readable for my old eyes!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you Joy, it’s a good feeling to write again (good and maddening, lol) I’m glad this is easier to read, I also like the way it’s easier to keep track of comments on wp. Though the style elements are limited in the free version.


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