“The Lost Crayons of Childhood 2” © Edward Michael Supranowicz

 

Collage Person

I am a collage person
A mixed media me
I’m a little bit everything around me

Everyone who has held my hand or heart
Everyone who has touched my life
Leaves a little mark
Another stroke on a beautiful, incomplete canvas
A self portrait, sketched by situation

I cut pictures out of magazines to glue to my skin
A perfect paper heart in my chest
Every song I’ve ever sung is printed in my throat
And every piece of art I’ve ever loved still sticks to me somewhere
Inked to my insides like a tattoo

Even people I’ve never met can leave a wash of color on the page
The sepia tint of an old photograph
Shown to me by my grandfather, his eyes fond and glassy

Brief friendship litter the canvas in small, bright clusters
Like confetti pasted into a scrapbook
The memory of a fleeting moment of life
Older friends make larger marks
Broad strokes, smeared on with abandon
Still wet to the touch

Some “friends” leave darker stains
Muddy colors that bleed
Dried down brown, like old blood
In time they fade, are painted over
Little shows through of them now except a vague imprint
A worn-down relief of a person better left in the past

I am a record of who I’ve met and loved
A collaborative canvas, not kept in a closed collection
There is no entry fee to see me,
though donations are appreciated
Come by and leave a mark someday

 

Eliza Hansen: “I’m a new poet, who finds beauty in both natural and manmade things. I love tea and nice pens and weird art. I hate the Us government. He/She/They.”

Edward Michael Supranowicz is the grandson of Irish and Russian/Ukrainian immigrants. He grew up on a small farm in Appalachia. He has a grad background in painting and printmaking. Some of his artwork has recently or will soon appear in Fish Food, Streetlight, Another Chicago Magazine, The Door Is A Jar, The Phoenix, and The Harvard Advocate. Edward is also a published poet who has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize multiple times.