The Eternal Critic
The light verses dark
and the smudged
and softened brush strokes
suggests to me it is, as always,
religious propaganda
of some sort.
Whether it is the nihilistic
take on the defeat of the
uncovered soul,
when subjected
to black magic.
(Very Faustian.)
Or, it could be a
nod to the alienation
effect.
This poor man
shielded himself,
but from what?
The naked
top of his head,
the abomination,
is sheltered with
a death shroud.
But, please, sir
Look above you
at the enigmatic
circular, chatoyant,
natation.
Or that hypnotic dance of heaven,
will be lost on every
untrained eye.
Just as it is unseen to
the foolish man who
only looks to his feet.
based on Flight of the Witches, by Francisco de Goya
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Tickle your toes. . .
-
there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
-
In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but... -
motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
-
and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
-
RICK: Hey Rick? DICK: Yea, Dick? RICK: See that sky roll on by? (points) DICK: ...Oh, my... RICK: Don't i-t'almost makes yer wanner.... -
nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
-
A woman's stance feet parted so that like a breezy window the mantle opened slightly lets in curves of salty air- but here there is no, ...
-
The Opera The eyes of the firing-squad are aimed with lashed cross-hairs for now we, the chorus, all look like oiled up black ducks in a ro...
-
At age 25 for Sir John Donne Down went San Felipe. Crimson and pale, rippling, clinging to it's mist. Oh, how that flagship hurled itsel...
-
hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
Poets United Contributor
This poem confuses me and I don't understand it very well, but I do like how you've worded the final bit: "Just as it is unseen to/the foolish man who/only looks to his feet"
ReplyDeleteyeah, it's weird lol.
ReplyDelete