lost words are wolves hunting
heat from the herd, raw desire
one day less alone
American prom night
youth-swept hair moussed down in place
cigarettes light, poof
there goes Mary's lamb
water pail swings from her jaw
blind to the boil ahead
it begins like a bath
soft as the sun's seduction
quiet as a rack
back window fogs up
fingers paint shapes on car's cave
condensing moments
it was kilning day
he, my substitute art teacher
ersatz guardian
photos of his kids
near the hearth of his grandma's
basement fireplace
I was a student
thirteen is an innocence
despite the heated clay
Sandro knew his kind,
let's call him Terry Carter
because that's his name
Categories:
botticelli, extended metaphor,
Form: Haiku
A lover of female form,one, Sandro Botticelli
so Roman goddesses we often do see
Painting so decorative,but,never rude
though he did like females standing, nude
Categories:
botticelli, art, word play,
Form: Clerihew
Sandro
Mastering his skill of painting, diligent to detail, color, and Frescos (Sistine Chapel)
Born in Florence, Italy, apprenticed as a goldsmith, then later with a master painter
By 1472, he had his own workshop where he created most of his works
Painting his Early Renaissance and Gothic Realism art plus doing church Frescos
He feared marriage saying it gave him nightmares, so he never married or had children
However he did love a married noblewoman and asked to be buried at her feet and was
In his later life, he was accused of "keeping a boy" but he was dismissed of charges
Yet he died in disgrace. His art remains in churches and galleries forever beloved
Botticelli
________________________
April 3, 2016
Poetry/Bio/Sandro Botticello
Copyright Protected, ID 16-774-483-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
(Real name - Alessandro di Mariano Filipepe)
Categories:
botticelli, art,
Form: Bio