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| Artwork: German Zwanik |
I have recently become a huge fan of German Zwanik's work, to the point where I will one day have an original Zwanik hanging on my wall. Having a love of ballet. angels and artwork this is without doubt my favourite painting however it has already been purchased and has been given a home in London. I find German's work extremely inspiring and simply had to write a poem to accompany this beautiful, sad ballerina. She looks as if she was whisked off this earth quickly and the haunting background seems to contain a shadow, possibly it's the shadow of death. I perceive her as a brilliant dancer who was so busy putting her energy and emotion into dance that she inadvertently allowed life and love to pass her by. The following poem takes the form of her monologue at that point of self-realisation. If you would like to find out more about German Zwanik's work tune into Buffaloo Radio this Sunday (8th March) 6-9pm GMT when he will be discussing his life journey with us.
BALLERINA OVERKILL
Now I understand what I was meant to see
Dancing Juliet a thousand times
From Sydney Opera House
To London’s Coliseum
And all the while I felt I knew
Seriously believed I understood
The world’s best loved tragedy
Romeo and Juliet, love’s ultimate dream
And yet- I realise I was an arrogant fool
Playing a part, a myth nestling snugly
Within the wings of endless time
Juliet still loves her Romeo
But the arms and legs portraying her
Are no longer mine
Ballet, sweet childhood fantasy
Through sweat and blood became a reality
Prima Ballerina holding centre stage
Pure, noble, sylph-like creature
Every move a contour of grace
A true sense of grandeur and elation
Whilst the greatest sustenance I craved
Was admiration with thunderous applause
Bouquets of brightly coloured flowers
Flung enthusiastically towards the stage
In the throes of a standing ovation
Appreciation for the hours of joy
My performances brought
I was a worldwide sensation
The curtain call called suddenly
Prematurely, at the peak of my career
As if silenced in the middle of a pirouette
Ripped apart during the pas de deux
Death, striking like the tongue of a viper
Licking its prey. Permanently
paralysed
Administering a cruel blow
Knocking me off the pinnacle of success
And as I feel the weight of my feathered wings
I struggle with a new reality
To romanticize life is a fatal flaw
Perfection will always be beyond our grasp
Jaz McKenzie ©2015
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