SPIDERWOMAN.

Spring Snow
Spring snow, oil on canvas, 50 x 50 cm., Adam Donaldson Powell, 2014.

BREATHLESS.

In the guises of feminism and masculinity,
we paced and stalked definition
with the cunning of a mother lion:
’round and ’round, closer and closer,
until our precarious showdown brought us
face-to-face with insecurity and dream.
As the war-drum heartbeats of a
million Amazons prepared to vanquish
my masculinity at its first indiscretion,
I loaded my tongue with silver arrows
and mercilessly catapulted the words
‘I love you’ against your brazen shield.
And simultaneously we fell — breathless.


by Adam Donaldson Powell, from “Collected poems and stories”, 2005, Cyberwit publishing.

Gone primal, oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm., Adam Donaldson Powell, 2014.
Gone primal, oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm., Adam Donaldson Powell, 2014.

A real sucker.

I am a real sucker for beautiful women …
helpless goddesses, manipulating and
man-eating amazons, man-hating
nymphomaniacs with a bone to pick …
all flirtatious, and moody — “spiderwomen”
with love that gets turned on and off,
like a faucet; and vaginas that require
so much work to gain entry to that it is
almost not worth the effort. I fall for the same types of men, too. It’s complicated.

 

 

Beetlemania / Bugging out! (Oil on canvas, 30x30 cm x two paintings).
Beetlemania / Bugging out! (Oil on canvas, 30×30 cm x two paintings).

SPIDERWOMAN.

Hey you, spiderwoman.
You who are always one of the
best-dressed in the city,
but who never uses money
when you are out on the town.
Hey you, spiderwoman.
So shy and alluring that
guys chase after you until
you capture them.
Hey you, spiderwoman.
So lonely. So sad.
So afraid for yourself.
Hey you, spiderwoman.
Is that so strange, really …?

EDDERKOPPKVINNE.
(My original Norwegian version.)

Du, edderkoppkvinne.
Som bestandig er iblant
de best kledde i byen,
men som aldri bruker
penger når du er ute.
Du, edderkoppkvinne.
Så sjenert at gutter
leter etter deg inntil
du fanger dem.
Du, edderkoppkvinne.
Så ensom. Så lei.
Så redd for deg selv.
Du edderkoppkvinne.
Er det rart, eller …?

MUJER ARAÑA.
(Spanish adaptation by Fernando Rodríguez)

Eh tú,
Mujer araña.
Que siempre
estás entre
las mejores vestidas
de la ciudad,
pero que nunca
gasta un peso
cuando sales
de noche.

Eh tú,
Mujer araña.
Tan timida
que los chicos
te buscan
hasta que tú
los atrapas.

Eh tú,
Mujer araña.
Tan sola.
Tan triste.
Tan temerosa
de ti misma.

Eh tú,
Mujer araña.

¿Es raro, o qué …?

 

(from Adam Donaldson Powell’s “Jisei”, 2013.)

"Avalanche", oil on canvas, 80 x 80 cm.
“Avalanche”, oil on canvas, 80 x 80 cm.
"RAW", oil on canvas, 40 x 40 cm.
“RAW”, oil on canvas, 40 x 40 cm.

Snapshot_20130111_2

Remembering the adolescent years.

The adolescent years caught us off guard.
Fighting the travesties of acne and war
in a world we did not really know,
we marched through youth as soldiers of mercy
compelled by the romanticism of mass dissent …
feeling much, with little certainty.
If knowledge vanquished gullibility,
then surely inexperience bred expectation;
and faith cradled us in naked dreams
of prodigious sexual love yet bereft
of both lust and rationality.
I remember how you once told me that
the sexiest word in the French language
has to be “pamplemousse”.
You broke up in laughter and exclaimed:
“It means grapefruit. Can you believe that?
G-R-A-P-E-F-R-U-I-T!”
I laughed because your amusement was contagious.
Looking at your wild eyes and farm-girl smile,
I fell captive to your callow charm and
soon we were deep in each other’s arms,
giggling hysterically.
We awoke from our laughter gazing at
one another in momentary sobriety.
And then, I buried my head in your breasts
whispering “p-a-m-p-l-e-m-o-u-s-s-e!”
And our seriousness died laughing.

— by Adam Donaldson Powell, from “Collected poems and stories”, 2005, Cyberwit publishing.

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