“In Art Form”
Is that a kaleidoscopic image of me
hanging on your bare wall?
Why am I smiling you ask?
Because friend, you painted me with such intensity.
Yes, it was rather difficult to recognize my likeness.
My eye seems to have gotten lost in the glossy red coat that you used.
I assume that you picked a hue and type that screamed “lurid”.
Am I really?
Oh, I can see how that can be fascinating,
A boy a girl? A man a woman? An x or y, chromosome that is?
Well, I figured that you could have portrayed me as an apple.
After all, we apples are always fearful of being de-cored.
Yes, I have one dear friend.
Would you spell that s-o-l-e or s-o-u-l?
You may, yes you may hang me up for public display.
Some passerby may recognize and see themselves in me.
You’re right, “but what if…?”
I am recognized and despised
Have I ever seen an oil cry?
Yes friend indeed, when one uses the wrong paint
Well, I’m off to visit the sculptor.
I heard my bust is complete.
“Untitled”
Whose job is it anyway to ensure that I am taught the truth:
that I am a princess or a prince in wait?
Who will advocate for me when I am told that
I am nothing more than a slut or a future pimp
to be or not to be like my good for nothing mother and absent father?
I say, who will look me into the deep of my eyes
and see the traces of my visions and dreams
that appear like a kaleidoscope sometimes?
I ask, who of you will stop and remind me
that I am God’s child, truly loved, verily blessed,
oh so revered, and the apple of God’s eyes?
I am lost like a precious piece of jewelry
that has slipped out of your hands
and into a dark crevice for someone else to find.
I am searching for my true self
in the midst of shadows that appear to cover my identity.
So will you hear me, feel me, and respond to my call?
Will you bring together the pieces of my broken legacy for once and for all?
Because I need you to restore me to my throne
Open your eyes
because the dream is over and we have been sleeping far too long.
“Simply letters”
Help me to “c” things as “u” do.
The only problem is,
When “u” try, remember that i c
Things differently.
But don’t worry, if i seem to be slow
2 comprehend, don’t bend
Because it will only take 1 minute to go from
Y to o k, i c.
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5 comments:
We are often painted...many different ways by many different artists...I have my favorite artist...but the picture she paints is a bruised one...I find my joy in looking at an exhibition of me...all painted by different artists none of them coming close...and so I laugh.
i can't comment...testing....
Mwabi
ok it worked. I tried forever yesterday. Since I don't have a google acct I've been shut out :)
anywho I'm so glad you're back. All is forgiven since you gave us 3 pieces. I especially loved the oil cry (or something like it, I read it yesterday) line
Mwabi
nean...it takes some craft to find joy in voyuerism...smiles...some of us learn and learn to love being naked and unashamed (to steal a phrase from good ole TD Jakes)...while others would rather hide behind fig leaves, and for good reasons...
mwabi...i am so glad that you have something to read...i look forward to your thoughtful reflections...if only we all learned to reflect in that way, the world would truly be a better place...
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