The Net

trapped in the net

of self-delusion,

i bleed scarlet on twine,

wielding the shuttle

in an attempt to repair

the jagged tear,

my only means for escape.


the waves pound rock into sand.

there is only one way to weave

with a symmetry of design.


you in the currack,

are witness

to my utilitarian beauty,

as i am tossed to the sea,

my prison stretched slack

before the tide.


you drift as i mourn my freedom 

in this strange kind of drowning,

a recognition of balance, 

part and whole.


body curved and lithe,

feather brush of eddies,

fingertips on skin.

i wake in the dawn,

remembering – i swim.


© M.G. Iannucci 2017
Photo: Claude Monet, Fishing Nets at Pourville

8 thoughts on “The Net

  1. An interesting poem and painting. Not long ago we were in St. Louis and visited the St. Louis Art Museum SLAM. The building was from the 1905 World’s Fair. We made a point of seeing the Degas Millinery exhibit. He painted many people and scenes of mostly women dressed in fine hats. It gave us a whole new appreciation for his work and that of the hat makers.

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      1. I agree. We saw works by Degas and others that covered a few decades. The hat styles evolved in dramatic ways from small to huge and back to a more moderate practical size. Some of the works included charcoal sketches of scenes next to the finished paintings. It was fun to see how the original ideas became a finished product not quite as originally conceived. It is a process true for all endeavors. I’m sure you do that with poetry.

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