PAINTINGS BY ASLAM ABOUJAMRA
by Joanna Gilman Hyde
The Hawk Corner Room 4:10pm
My Prison, My Sanctuary —
what I used to name Dr Blair’s
Big White Castle
where He worked hard and lived hard
for over thirty years —
is delightfully exposed
now, at The Foot of Dr Blair’s Big Brown Bed
here on The Hawk —
The Bed I have finally decked out
with new sheets and new comforter
in blues to go with His Eyes —
The Big Brown Bed in a pea-green room I left
in My Flurried Escape
returned to last night, but just
to sleep —
this morning I took down
The Lee Savage Drawings
facing Us:
A Woman (Lee’s Wife) with just lips
and Its Mate — Lee and Karen’s Open Porch
(on “My Side” of The Bed)
— Now, This Morning, I put up
The Frameless Oils
painted by The Syrian Brother
of One of The Doctors sponsored
by Dr Blair in 1999 —
The Year of Our Fateful Affair
— They’re A Pair of gaily painted
Houses —
The One on the left
is a small white house Dr Jamal Aboujamra
rented from Dr Blair —
and The One on the right
at My Night Time Feet
expressionistic-ally depicts the largest residential building*
in Barrington Passage
no longer owned by My Captor
swirling in brush strokes
of pink, peach and green —
The Giant Cedar
obscures high windows
of The Victorian Rooms
I floundered in
on couches and beds
while Dr Blair worked
in His Attached Office
I lay there and dreamed
on anti-depressants and Olanzapine
and wrote what would turn into
a book of poems
titled “No Bones About It“
stored somewhere in the basement
of Our House here on The Hawk
where I have finally found My Self
My Art, and Jesus to boot
in Jethro Tull’s Aqualung
played on The Canadian French Radio
while working on My Secret Painting
here in My Own Little Corner Room
where I am finally free
*Dr Blair’s Big White Castle burned down on the same morning in December 2017 I left for Christmas vacation in British Columbia — to spend with His Family and My Kids — without him.
Aqualung! … do you still remember December’s foggy freeze …
Yeah — can You believe It? I don’t think EYE have heard that song since I was 17. On November 4th I heard it “as if for the first time” and “saw” the significance of My Secret Painting — which will be revealed to My Intended — Who now has instructions to sign It when the BLACK paint dries. (You did ask — a little?)
Fascinating.
… and the ice that clings on to your beard, you were screaming agony.
Aqualung my friend, don’t you start away uneasy… you poor old fool you see it’s only me…
It’s been a long, long time but pressed I’m sure I could remember every word – perhaps of the whole album, though there might be some mix up. What a soundtrack to lay behind this piece.
Poor old sod . . . š
Or perhaps it’s sot rather than sod?
Hmmm. That’s the thing… I know all the words… many are just not quite right.
That’s why we had album covers and inserts with lyrics back in the day!
Thank You both for these comments — EYE could write more but I don’t want to give anything away (yet.) But I will say, Chagall, M(EYE) diary entry @ 4:30 this morning was addressed to You.
My interest is certainly piqued! –CC
Chagall — I think I DO need Your Email! How could You send it to me privately?