Identity fertlized ad nauseam .
On a path between compostela
and Ibiza .
Thus ,offended by a non-being
stylised in bling-bling letters
the fairies lay wise cubist fantasia
on my birth coffin .
I am only this acrylic impression
on unspoken canvas ,
abstraction in the circus of the living ,
figural museum piece
pickled in autistic reverie ...
That's make Dali's moustache
stand on end !
And Modigliani's long nose lenghtens !
My father ,this custom officer
with such a tender smile.
Told me :
"You'll be an artist my son ! ''
( Dad ,died of a bad temper ...)
Me ,I would have liked to be
a mechanic in the Titanic 's womb
and sink into the limbo ..
( Mom is a I.A in another dimension).
This world would have been smoother
if Maradona had been a landscaper ...
I've lost the damn' blue house key...
This year Leonardo won the giro .
I love this essence in China ochre
for wild pastel souls .
Unfinished portraits,
scrawled faces of pastime girls
and pastiches..
Stealthy prints in sorrowful skins...
But the grimacing beast is still there !
Taking up the pose ,
making grotesque features
and whispering sweet little nothings
'' I've bought a frozen life for tonight love ! ''
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 22nd, 2025 10:18
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell
Offline)
Comments2
What is of importance? Whatever blows your hair back. A fun read full of more metaphor than I could keep track of
A work that does not seek to please and assumes its uniformity !
Grotesque, caricature, tragicomedy. The poem feels like it’s assembled from brushstrokes of old posters, half-forgotten jokes, and cultural references. That’s its special charm. I really like it.
Poetry screaming in the background !
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