Steven Ratiner, Arlington Poet Laureate, poet and educator, has had a long-standing commitment to expanding the ways audiences experience poetry and the arts. He has collaborated with jazz and classical musicians, visual artists, and dance companies to create cross-genre pieces for diverse audiences. Steven has published three poetry chapbooks, and his work has appeared in scores of journals in America and abroad including Parnassus, Agni, Hanging Loose, Poet Lore, Salamander, QRLS (Singapore) and Poetry Australia. He is featured in the new anthology Except for Love – New England Poets Inspired by Donald Hall. He has also written poetry criticism for the Christian Science Monitor, The San Francisco Chronicle, and The Washington Post. As an educator, Steven has conducted 300+ intensive poetry residencies in elementary and secondary schools throughout New England and lectured on poetry and workshop techniques in numerous schools and colleges.
Scenes (In Praise of Young Artists)
Alright Mr. DeMille – so says breath,
so says milkweed pod split at the seams –
I’m ready for my close-up.
c
Yes, I too have the feeling we’re
not in Kansas anymore. Question is:
whose Oz have we been summoned to?
Or is this dream of our own creation?
c
Life is a combination of magic and pasta.
Is that you, Mr. Dolce Vita? Enjoying
your corner table? Plotting how the passersby
can be transformed by the painterly eye?
c
It doesn’t take much to see – he tells me,
rain strumming the wet tarmac – that the problems
of a few little people don’t amount to a hill of beans
in this crazy world. Yes, but Monet’s painting
of his garden – beans, basil, tomatoes, fennel,
between rows of marigold and stately iris –
c
a century later and aren’t they’re blooming still?
And ter Brugghen’s musicians by candlelight –
isn’t that his song still playing in the background,
the wick still shimmering? And Ms. Claudel’s bronze –
arms outstretched, imploring – any day now,
might we not decide to welcome her embrace?
c
The role of the artist is to not look away.
Thought polished like a samurai’s blade.
c
And Scarlet – frankly, my dear, I think
you care too damned much, that’s your problem.
You too Mr. lavender, Ms. Ochre – and I see you
hiding in the back row, Messrs. Umber, Cobalt,
and young Miss Green-gold, checking your phone,
anxious for the promised summer to begin.
c
You believe – need to believe – that the rainbow
that the rainbow really does signal covenant.
You’re eager to work it with your own two hands.
And tell me, what but the soot-gray of your own
damned fear has any chance to stop you?
c
So: yes, Mr. DeMille – say the shy magnolias,
red-lipped roses, watercolors, sketchbook, and chime
that announces the arrival of my text – ding! –
we’re ready now for our close-up.
[Composed for: THE ARLINGTON INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL 2020 POSTER CONTEST]