Michael Coy Poet Sonnet

Artemisia, Part 11 of 12

(Pierantonio Stiattesi really existed.  He was somehow
on the periphery of the Gentileschi social circle.  Tassi
really did send him a sonnet entitled, “Change, change,
Stiattesi!”  Some years after the trial, Stiattesi married
Artemisia … so in his eyes, at least, she was not
“damaged goods”.)


Pierantonio Stiattesi

I am a painter and from Tuscany,
a good friend of the Gentileschi, and
I know the others – somewhat.  I can’t say
what may, or yet may not, have passed between
young Artemisia and that one.  All I know,
and I attest to it, is Tassi was 
obsessed with her.  He wanted to suborn –
it’s proof you want?  I don’t know if this serves,
but here’s a sonnet Tassi wrote to me,
and tossed in through my window.  In his hand,
he writes as follows.  Shall I read it out?

Change, change, Stiattesi!  Be a better friend
than you were wont of late, for if you loved
your Agostino, would you not have proved
the same, by helping him towards his end?

Change, change, the dark imperative of life,
that renders human joy impermanent,
compels me.  What once flourished, now is spent.
You know I’ve been abandoned by my wife!

No thing is constant.  Water wears through stone.
Just as great bibles, chained to abbey shelves,
are gnawed to pulp by worms, so with ourselves:
beneath beguiling flesh, unlovely bone.

Be you like Cosimo – learn to arrange
such comforts as a friend may ask.  Change, change!

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Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart April 19, 2017 at 12:36 PM I'm going back now to seven the whole series :)

Darren White March 15, 2017 at 1:04 PM Commenting (any sort of writing for that matter) isn't easy in hospital 0.o The reason this is hard for me to comment on, is your note between parentheses. I've heard that phrase said to me so many times, that I come to believe it is true. And it takes me years to get rid of it. Anyway: Change, change. It takes one good person to change, only one person to reach out and change the course of your life. Water wears through stone. Grief does too. A stone gets polished by tears, and shines. Michael Coy March 15, 2017 at 2:01 PM Beautiful words, amigo. I hope you're home soon and we can talk at length.