Untitled

 

All of us in a boat.

Sitting there.

Our blood on the water.

Our reflections in the blood.

All of us looking.

The boat unmoving.

The water undisturbed.

No one talking.

Evening settling in.

A chill with the dimming.

This poem is inspired by Peter Doig's 'Figures in Red Boat'. It's a fantastic image which I purposely left out of the post to allow the poem achieve its own effect. However, if you’re not familiar with the painting, do a search and stay with it for a while; I think it is very thought-provoking.

Don’t say too much

or you’ll give it away.

Peter Doig’s paintings are poetic; magical, mysterious, beautiful and different. Canoes and boats feature a lot, it's a good choice: figures isolated on the water,  going to God knows where,while the interface of water and air introduces the notion of an alternative world.

His six characters in ‘Figures in Red Boat’ are suspended between something horribly grotesque and perfect serenity, the explained and the unexplained, this world and some other. They look lost and it’s interesting that the figure on the left seems to be seated outside the boat. An exotic landscape is suggested in the background, but it might be mist; there is sunlight on the figures in a dim grey setting.

Was there a bloody accident, leaving six people somewhere beyond life? Is this a boat into the next world?

Mirage-like; ambiguous and disturbing, it leaves me wanting to write about it; but what? It’s quite brilliant.