Gleaned from Ink
~from the Collection, Odes to Plath
It is never a shock that you died.
(You announced deaths’ presence often
enough, explained your acquaintance
with his cold, familiar person.)
Not your dying, but the final distorted picture —
Isolated, alone, invisible gas, babies in the next room.
That stunning portrait shock-ripples our consciousness.
The proximity of life and death
so closely knitted together —
touching threads aligned
evenly in your created tapestry.
Your destiny was to become a great poet,
immortality gleaned from ink
flowing across a contrast-white background,
the dark-lined letters of your life
a glistening hue.
~composed September 2010.
ARTWORK CREDIT: The Scribe and the Scroll…, by Jon Gemma. Original and other artwork here.
Marissa Colleen Mullins 
I am flattered that you would use my artwork on your site with this lovely poem about death. I have not died unless I am wide awake in the afterlife. I live again, and again, and again, in a viscous circle of insanity. I am alive and well in a new life without someone to breathe life into me. I am only dead in the practical sense. I serve no purpose in the life of someone special. Women pass me by while I have nothing but dead dreams. Thank you for this honor, but I am alive in the painful illusion of life.
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Thank you so much for visiting my site Jon, and it is I who am flattered!
I find your art so entrancing and melodic in it’s own right, wonderfully creative. The juxtaposition between reality (as understood by the masses) and the creative-subjective reality as felt and seen by an artist is amazing!
Remember, even in pain (or, most especially in pain) an artist brings truth and beauty into a world that is suffocating in gray, non-remarkable days. I respect and appreciate that gift dearly.
You use that gift in a way that makes those of us looking at your art awaken and come more alive. Thank you! Blessings always to you, Marissa
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