Long Vinci Poems
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It’s said the great Michaelangelo
had considered himself as a foe
to a rival of his.
You should know who this is -
Da Vinci, the great Leonardo!
So why would the one so dislike
the other? I bet as a tyke
Michaelangelo would
tell his foe, if he could:
“You’re a dreamer, so go take a hike!”
Yes, a dreamer was popular Leo,
and he did all his artwork so slow.
he’d finish so little
that here is the riddle:
Why did everyone like that guy so?
While Michael was giving his all,
Leo faltered and then he would stall.
A mural he tried,
changed the paint and got fried.
The guy could not finish a wall!
Michaelangelo worked like a slave.
To the world a great chapel he gave.
While Da Vinci would play
with his rich friends all day,
Michael worked himself into the grave!
For Marugu Mo's Contest: Historical rivalry-Part 1- Leonardo vs Michaelangelo
When he first began that canvas
with gentle brush' strokes,
he was unable to control those swift fingers:
did he realize that he was creating
a masterpiece...that painting
of ordinary woman with such serene eyes?
Was Da Vinci paid for his painting, or was his intent too probable:
to be immortalized as others in an era too rich and indelible?
Did Mona Lisa's attire made her not appear so noble to the Florentine court?
And although he was charmed by her, he only concentrated on his fine portrait!
Even the long-bearded Leonardo in his ingenious and creative mind
couldn't have imagined the viewers' admiring feeling;
and I look at it in awe envisioning the master's skillful hand
carefully giving it the final touch to complete the immortal painting!
Twice i have been blessed
enough to visit Paris the capital
of France
And truth be told the second time
was even better than the first
And if i was forced to place
a comment on Trip Advisor
this it would be
If you are going to see the
Mona Lisa do yourself a favor
and don't bother
As it it the only thing in Paris
that may well spoil or disappoint
Unless you are into or appreciative
of art
Because and this is only to me
and my mum who i took with me
It was quite possibly one of the
least impressive thing's we have
ever witnessed between the pair
of us
And the only reason we still talk
about to this day
Is because neither of us could
decipher Da Vinci Code
You crept into our lives
silently stalking
like a cat burglar in the dead of night
invading every aspect of our world
Robotic treatment by the Da Vinci Machine
operated by a skilled surgeon
removed this blight from our lives ...
yet lurking in the back of our minds
your memory remains
Cancer, you violated his body
but in a strange way you were a blessing
by giving us a stark reality check
We appreciate our days on earth are limited
and cherish every second
living each day to the full
Of course we are realistic
one day you may return
but we will do battle with you again
victory will be ours -
and once more you will be a distant memory!
10/5/18
Dragonflies impossibly maneuver,
defying aerodynamics.
Obviously, there is something wrong with our
calculations,
even bumble bees behave like U.F.O’s.
Da Vinci, sketched flying machines
everything is feasible on paper
and we know paper planes can also fly.
A child can imagine a flying peddle bike,
because they can easily ignore
the settled science of gravity.
Peddle power is a real thing.
Children leave room for the impossible,
the way the Wright Brothers did.
Rockets were invented by the unimaginative,
Jules Verne and comic books misled them.
Space travels not about moving through space
as if it were actually a distance.
When we ask what it is - that nothingness
in which objects hang within or fly through,
then we will be close to inventing fire once more.
The sloth and the snail are not moving slow,
the flitting dragonfly, as it sharply veers
and turns in an iota of sky is not moving fast.
They are all equally synchronized,
they just do not consider time as a hurdle
but more of a tunnel.
I can still recall
the taste of that first youthful kiss,
it has not slipped away into a nether place,
it returns when I call to it, that kiss
and many more exclamation marks.
A hummingbirds bewildering feats of aviation,
though explicable, is no less magical,
it should remind us of the origami nature of time,
how it folds to accommodate any space
even a long ago kiss.
POEMS AND ROCKS
I believe it should be our mission while on the Earth…
to do our part to improve and to advance her….
to leave a better world than the one we found…
to add to her beauty…to enhance her.
I am not a famous poet…like Whitman, Frost or Angelou…
I’m just a person who likes to write his poems…
and send them out to you.
Deborah is not a famous artist…like Da Vinci or Monet..
She’s just a person who likes to paint on rocks…
then leave them in places along the way.
Perhaps someone will read a poem of mine…
or find one of Deborah’s rocks…by chance…
and it will make them think…or smile..
and in that moment…their world enhance.
And they might carry that feeling with them
as they walk along the street…
and they might share that smile they just picked up
with other people whom they meet.
It’s one way that a smile…from a poem or rock unfurled
can, as if carried by the wind, find it’s way around the world.
And even if that smile finds its way to only one person on the street…
Even if it makes only one person smile…
then we will smile too…for our mission is complete.
Un-revelling Rivalry
Who am I to speak of historical rivalry I cannot contest
all the clever myriad truths conjectures and refutations
about the two masters the two foes with huge presence
when history acclaim appreciation is subjective personal
up front and back stage up all artistic ins downs and outs
My parachute helicopter mind wants to give first prize to
to Leonardo for free flying inventive rebellious mind and
he helped me with anatomy dissecting corpses and all I can
still smell fragrant formalin preserving miraculous tissues
when I had to learn those medical terms and cut into flesh
But then Michelangelo shares my middle name though I am
no angel but who can proclaim that I may never be biased in
associate vein in quite shallow post-post-modernist anticipation
when the great man also painted in narrative personification
Deluge Drunken Noah Creation of Adam Madonna and Child
Okay family man that I am I resort to holidays with my children
and am so sad to admit that we never so far made it to Rome
sacrilegious or not but how could I pass The Last Judgement
when seeing Sistine Chapel’s altar would alter the verdict
of Ignoramus with leisure time spent on Normandy’s beaches
Well now I recall that trip to Euro Disney when we walked
from Tour Eiffel to the Louvre where I temporarily lost my
little boy Moritz and almost my temper when the devious villain
hid from the artwork was sulking because the Mona Lisa was
so small and he was so tiny could not see amongst masses of
tourists the smile and metaphorical writing on canvas and wall
So in all earnest while giving a toss I could-would have to resort
to tossing a coin in regards to whom why how and whenever the
rivals could measure up to history my history my story and life
Even and because of my whacky literal critical stance and my
stanzas bordering on mockery heresy subtle subjectification
you must remember that I have one tongue and two cheeks
And while seemingly ridiculing an important theme of historical
prominence I still bow in awe admiration yet lodge my own angle
perspective whereas the two grand master’s problem was not
what I would behold in my eyes and my soul in full radiance but
that they chose not to consider each others contrasting beauty
as compliment complement Leonardo Angelo Michel Da Vinci
01st September 2016
Have you ever seen a pair of Nine West Folowe Pumps in Red Blooms Floral - or ever held a feathery pair? They offer the pure pleasure of perfection.
You can see them popping up lately, in streetwear silhouette, matched with Dolce & Gabbana’s floral-print leggings, making a duet of blooms—petal upon petal, like a garden in motion, or paired with the new, high-waisted barrel leg jeans, lending a flash of elegance, a bright flourish against dull denim.
They’re visions, wrought as if by the hand of Michelangelo, who once from marble freed David’s pose, or da Vinci, whose brush summoned the Mona Lisa’s secret smile.
In form, they’re d’Orsay cut, sporting curves as deliberate as the Sistine vaults arch. The stiletto heels rise with the ambition of a cathedral’s spire - neither too proud nor too meek, but balanced, like the symmetry of a butterfly’s painted wings.
Upon their surface, blood red blooms unfurl - petals as vivid as spring’s first flush - each blossom a testament to an artist’s hand, in riots of color and romance that dance with the same spirit as a flowerbed at dawn.
No flaws mar their making: the stitchings are true, the fits precise—as if tailored by the muses themselves. Each pair offers its own unique foliations, bespeaking the freedom of a craftsman’s careful art.
Lastly, of course, they’re marvels of harmonious function, lightly cradling and lifting each step - comfort and glamour aren’t adversaries here, but partners in making each step a sonnet and each stride an artist's brushstroke.
Now, maybe you aren’t into fashion - perhaps you’re a male - oh, poor you, I’m sorry, but maybe, just maybe, in times of chaos, you long for the pleasure of inexpensive perfection.
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Songs for this:
Glamour Girl by Louie Austen
This is what falling in love feels like by JVKE
It was in smudged oil pastel;
Soft to the glare and rough to the delicate brush of flesh.
In your eyes were the starry night skies that Van Gogh never let go.
But above all: your gait, your stride, your purposeful amble held the life I used to know.
His face moulded like clay;
And how I remember the faces he pulled,
That could even make Mona Lisa give us a smile.
Now that I see his profile set in stone I realise da Vinci can't ever resurrect a faint hint of the face I used to know.
It's just like he said - the melting clocks.
Dripping, gathering, forming into black pyramids of every thought he ever had.
I wonder whether a face saves the user of its past life;
Or is it like Picasso always said?
The portrait split into a million faces of every person who wore it.
One in chalk, one in charcoal and a luminous one blotted by a felt tip pen.
In every one of these is the face of you that passes in the streets and carves a river through my cheek.
I know only one of you exists in the portrait but I have to say, from far away, in a world that I cannot view,
I spied on you and swear I glimpsed the face of the man I used to know.
SUPER HERO
Owned non parallel competence
with intensive intelligence
attained success in excellence.
My Idol : Super Hero.
An illustrious Scientist:
Physicist Chemist Botanist:
Zoologist Geologist:
Marvelous scenario.
Tornado-Storm predictor.
Designed first helicopter.
First Robot Planner and Maker.
Genius lively fellow.
Hero of Renaissance
Charismatic on elegance.
All rounder in performance.
Dazzling blazing with halo.
Great Grand Artist astounding .
Famous Architect amazing.
Wonderful on skillful sketching.
Da Vinci Leonardo.
04/17/17
Re edited on 09/21/22
Superhero or Supervillain
Contest by Robert James Liguori