What’s in a picture? What’s in a poem?

What’s in a Picture?

So, what is in the picture? What ends up in the poem?

I recently penned a few thoughts about using writing prompts, both written and in picture/image form. In the time since, I’ve found myself interested in breaking down what goes into the contemplation – in some cases, at least – of an image that is meant to become the focus of the muse.

Below, I have pasted an image of a children’s playground that is fairly widely distributed around the internet, and which I understand to be a free-for-commercial-use image, most likely originating on somewhere like Pixabay. Among other sightings, I know it to have featured on book covers – most likely used in order to keep cover design costs low.

In my own case the image was used as a writing prompt for speculative fiction (sci-fi, fantasy and similar writing genres).  I ended up writing two quite different poems using the image as prompt.

Take a look at the image. What do you see?

 

George1

Full image used for the George poem

One of the poems I used this prompt for was called George, and you’ll find it here. In looking back at the poem and image together, I have identified a number of elements – pictorial and non-pictorial that seem involved.

Seen Elements

1. There is a mist of some sort in the air; and

Mist in a playground

Mist in the playground for the George poem.

2. There is a child’s rider-rocker playground object.

Playground teeter-totter

A playground teeter-totter for the George poem.

 

Unseen Elements

Unseen elements have to be established in the narrative to enable the reader to visualise them as though they were in the picture – the picture in the mind. 

  1. A foul reek in the mist; and
  2. A suit of armour; and
  3. A sword; and
  4. A dragon!

What’s in a poem?

Unfolding the story

The poem, George,  attempts to take the visual elements I have detailed above (what’s in the picture), and to intertwine them with the monologue of a protagonist who is approaching. He is not approaching a rather misty children’s playground filled with swings and playthings. No. He is approaching a foul-breathed, smoggy dragon. A Wyrm!

He intends to deal with this dragon . . . 

How? How will he deal with the Wyrm (which we can clearly see now in playground left)? Why, with his sword of course. We all know that he must has a sword. We can visualise it.

How will he be protected? A suit of armour. We know by now that he will be wearing a suit of armour. Again, we can visualise it.

As for identity. I think we all know who our hero is, as well, don’t we? He is GEORGE! and there can only be one person named George who might be involved in in sneaking up on an unsuspecting dragon.

Can’t there?

How does the invisible become material and visible?

There is magic involved in storytelling. That is my belief, in any case. A requirement to persuade a reader to suspend rational belief and to see, as the writer wishes them to see.

A mist becomes a reek. A playground toy becomes a dragon. An image assumes an atmosphere.

The suspension of rational belief allows the reader to enter into the vision and the sensations being experienced by the protagonist.

  • Tension.
  • Adjustment of protective equipment.
  • The use of smell to identify the foe.
  • A sense of destiny.
  • A dragon.

Every reader wants to be taken away on a journey within the story. Using visuals to prompt further feats of imagination by the reader is the completion of a kind of alchemic reaction that accumulates the initial image, the imagination of the writer, the imagination of the reader.

Your Story

Here is another element from the original image. I wonder if you can imagine a story that starts from such a detail?

Try.

Detail from children's playground photograph used for the George poem.

Detail from children’s playground photograph used for the George poem.

The second poem that I wrote using this playground image – called Only the Wind is Free can be read here.