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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
~ Robert Pinsky
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Tuesday, 24. May 2005

Notes at The Met, NYC



Georges de La Tour, The Penitent Magdalene

Magdalene, you lived a life Of flesh, desire, and want.

Yet you are easier to embrace Than the one they call Messiah.

I recognize myself in your face, Turned away, the skull you hold

In your porcelain fingers, and The candle flame you gaze at,

Against which I too desire to hurl My body, walking in from the dark

El Greco, View of Toledo

The raven city perches above The ravines, placid and watchful,

Waiting for innocents to be burnt At stake and drive away its darkness.

Zurbarain, Virgin Mary As A Child

Master, I just wanted to point Out that all children, naturally Have halos around their heads.

Velazquez, The Supper at Emmaus

These three could be bohemians Dressed in funky clothes, seated

At a table in a Starbucks around The corner, arguing about something,

Till you eye is invariably led to That delicate gash on his hand

From which a nail had Been freshly removed.

Lotto, Venus and Cupid

Voluptuous Venus, bride to be, Reclines on her thick creamy Haunches, and little Cupid, That imp, as if to demonstrate His jouissance at her naivety, Urinates over her desirable body.

Solario, Salome with the head of John the Baptist

Salome gingerly receives The freshly chopped cabbage Top of Grim John. And yet, You can’t help wonder, why is she Not grinning with satisfaction?

Holbein ~ Herman Wedish

Contemporary political truth Stares at you from a three Hundred years old canvas:

Veritas odium parit, i.e., Truth breeds hatred.

Lewis Carroll ~ A Photo of Alice

Uncle Lewis, when did you Get out the Wonderland tunnel To be stalking Alice Liddell, Seven years old, dressed as A beggar maid, with your Bulbous glass eye?

Rodin – Madame X

Madame, since you didn’t like The nose the master gave you

We are forced to examine It very, very carefully.

Rodin ~ She who was once the helmet maker’s beautiful wife

Title of a Chinese hermit poem.

Few jottings made at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, one of the world's greatest, if not the greatest musuem, before art fatigue set in.




My Poems

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