Rothko Room


A London bright with April crowds,

With bridges arching north to south,

And skies a Hockney kind of blue:

A day for hitching heads to clouds.


We never really meant to stop,

There was no choice: we wandered in

And stop. We did. In charcoal grey,

And claret rich as Thames and Fleet.


The sound was drowned, and heartbeats slowed.

The room was emptied just for us.

I heard you breathing, knew the pulse

Of blood had found its perfect rate.


Outside the room a London boomed.

Inside we merged, surrounded, gripped.




13 Comments to “Rothko Room”

  1. Are you aware that London Crows sound different from USA crows (at least the ones on the East Coast where I live)? I was in Kensington Gardens when I heard these Crows called. I was startled and delighted. I SWEAR they had a British Accent! The only way I can describe it is a “BRRRRAAAAACK”. The USA Crows go “CAW!”

    I’m not sure if I got the sound right in that description. However, I KNOW they sounded different from my Crows (at home)!


  2. A wonderfully evocative write! I love especially the second last stanza…”The room was emptied just for us…..”

  3. a day for hitching heads to clouds…i like that description…its fresh…
    also like the closing couplet as well…the inside/out as it plays well after the evocative clearing and finding the heartbeat.

  4. Love this:
    “…the pulse
    Of blood had found its perfect rate”

    A very evocative poem, thank you.

  5. This must be the room at the Tate I’ve heard about? Would love to see it. Rothko can only be experienced in person. The first date I went on with my wife of many years was to a New York gallery to see Rothkos. It was just us and the paintings, alone.

  6. You capture so well those unexpected moments of silence in the roar of the big city. Lovely!

  7. Simply brilliant. As always.

  8. a lot of great lines in this… truly evocative.

  9. I bought a Rothko calendar at the beginning of the year, to challenge my secret conviction his art had nothing to tell me. I’ve read this poem and looked again at the calendar print, instead of the dates and I think – I think I know what’s going on.

  10. I had almost forgotten about David Hockney….great colourist…Hockney that! Very elegant verse..

  11. More great writing. I am speechless.

  12. Great art inspires… great art. Beautiful.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: