A poem about Ellington Robinson's Never Forget on Ice

Carla White Freyvogel is a writer and an educator at The Phillips Collection, and she often leads the Spotlight talk for Wednesday’s Guided Meditation. 

Ellington Robinson describes Never Forget on Ice: “This work is exploring the idea of how economics and culture are used to create political containers that we call states and countries…. So why are geographical divisions necessary? Why Racism, Imperialism, and Classism?” The participants in our Wednesday meditation contemplated Robinson’s luminous, textural, and stunning work. Yes, we too were inspired to ask these hard political, ecological, historical questions. The artist, who joined us for the meditation, assured us that he is “still in search of these answers by collage, found objects, and paint.” Guiding the meditation, Aparna Sadananda framed our experience in terms of the month’s theme: time.  

Viewing the artwork’s fractured forms, we considered that the “political containers we call states and countries” are evolving as time passes. Fighting, shifting, and struggling. The pressure gauge perches on the antique frame and measures … what? The expansive gulfs created by “geographic division”? The earth’s fissures as time marches on? Deterioration of land masses? The participants spontaneously dropped words and phrases into the Zoom chat. These insights were provocative and compelling. The words seemed to beg for some consolidation. A collaborative poem is the result. 

Here we have the fusing of our thoughts and insights, inspired by Never Forget on Ice by DC’s own Ellington Robinson.   

A Map of the World One minute to midnight Pressure is rising like bubbles Ruined remains of a civilization From the sky a topographical map Antarctica in all its glory, strength, and fragility? 

The bottom of the ocean Depths and shadows Gears grinding time away Newspaper’s information drowning Burnt edges, scraps of ancient paper Color, ice, rocks, bones, and sculls, Continents, layers A topographical map, Newspaper clips, remnants of life Decay beautifully arranged Lines of black, Structures fallen into themselves Bones, sculls, memories Yet A red splotch emerges from the ice A reminder of human presence Attempting to hold together Continents of a new world.