On Metaphor
by Claudia Reder
On the white board I draw a horizontal line.
What could this represent?
The road to my house.
The lost side of a square.
Nothing. It’s a line.
Without metaphor
existence means paying rent
and putting out garbage.
If I can’t metaphor
how can I explain—
Oh, says, Biro,
you can’t talk about pain
without metaphor,
its contours and colors,
its fish, spirals, and stars,
those lightning zingers,
that pincer of crab.
If pain is the body,
is imagination the soul?
Often working
from his bed, Matisse scissored
paper leaves and birds.
Look at the floor,
the dance of falling shapes,
spiraling, twisting,
into vibrant fish, snails and flowers.
At eighty he said
this was his freedom/
and it was.
What could this represent?
The road to my house.
The lost side of a square.
Nothing. It’s a line.
Without metaphor
existence means paying rent
and putting out garbage.
If I can’t metaphor
how can I explain—
Oh, says, Biro,
you can’t talk about pain
without metaphor,
its contours and colors,
its fish, spirals, and stars,
those lightning zingers,
that pincer of crab.
If pain is the body,
is imagination the soul?
Often working
from his bed, Matisse scissored
paper leaves and birds.
Look at the floor,
the dance of falling shapes,
spiraling, twisting,
into vibrant fish, snails and flowers.
At eighty he said
this was his freedom/
and it was.
Claudia M. Reder is the author of How to Disappear, a poetic memoir, (Blue Light Press). Uncertain Earth (Finishing Line Press), and My Father & Miro (winner of the Bright Hill Press Award). How to Disappear was awarded first prize in the Pinnacle and Feathered Quill awards. She was awarded the Charlotte Newberger Poetry Prize from Lilith Magazine, and two literary fellowships from the Pennsylvania Arts Council. Previously she was a storyteller and poet in the schools in DE, NJ, and PA. She taught at California State University at Channel Islands for seventeen years. Her book, Dizzying Words, is forthcoming from Main Street Rag Press.