MARLENE YVETTE CALLER VIDIBOR is a poet,
artist, public sector manager who has been doing art in fiber,
watercolor collage, for over 30 years. She has a background
in music, math, philosophy and public administration and has
taught at the undergraduate and graduate levels as volunteer
mentor for Baruch College students in computer science and
related fields. She has been writing poetry since 1992 fabricates
handmade books with her own poetry and artwork. She is the
cutator of the Phoenix Reading Series, a weekly reading in
Manhattan. You can reach Marlene at mvidibor@home.com.
A
New Era
We sit
in a San Diego ballroom
Like
George Segal sculptures
Each
in a singular state of repose
Shivering
assaulted by impossible promises
Made
with crumbling strands of truth
That
fall like plaster from the artist's casts
Visions
sold by spin doctors of progress
Shibboleths
empty mantras
Meant
to calm restless beasts
"World
class service for the working poor"
"Work
smarter not harder" - "Do more with less"
"Automation
will solve our problems"
I am
by turn pained and numb
Reminded
of the the spider that poisoned me
At
last year's conference in Chicago
Here
chrystal chandeliers hang like icicles
Casting
elongated shadows glaring reflections
As
distorted as those from fun house mirrors
Plush
chairs
Velvet
draperies
Amber
Speaks
I used
to trace the globe in flight
My
wings shaped lakes islands
Cast
shimmering shadows over
Sunlit
flowered fields.
They
call me Papillon
Bright
fluttering banner
Calligraphy
on translucent film
Absorbing
color from light.
Gypsy-spirited
Lepidoptera
I
floated from thistle to black-eyed Susan
Sipping
nectar with the bees
From
many-colored troughs
My
sonar guided me over land
Waves
bouncing
From
echoing caverns
Within
mountain vaults
Deep
inside an earthen urn
My
trapped life
Lies
buried by the glacier's art
My
antennae ossified
I
have become a jewel of evolution
Encased
in glistening schist
As
my sisters became
Pompeian
lace cemented in lava.
Can
you feel my ancient breath
As
I long to escape my cold chrysallis?
Join
the living
Brush
pollen with my tongue again