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Museum of Contemporary Life

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Below is the poem entitled Museum of Contemporary Life which was written by poet iolanda Scripca. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Museum of Contemporary Life

Lazy afternoons on easels
Maples giggle loud with sweetness
Blue and yellow mixed in grasses
Withered wrinkles sink in lilies

Joggers run in fear of dying
Secret trails end in abyss
As the sun stabs days in prisms
Bloody madness grabs the paintbrush

People old vanish from benches
Emptiness sits down by me
Artists mutilate self-portraits
Tempera in tubes succumbs

Painters shoot apocalypse in veins
Signatures escape through keyholes
Night becomes obsessive pitch black
Ghosts invade museum closed

...and I walk by with my suitcase
as reduced to it I am...
No one knows I carry homeless
The Portfolio of my Fate...


Copyright © iolanda Scripca

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  1. Date: 9/3/2012 5:46:00 PM
    excellent writing and interesting observations; some great lines - "as the sun stabs days in prisms", "emptiness sits down by me" - I recall reading your work before and being impressed by it :-)