soft smile
long while
her gaze
gained praise
mystique
physique
svelte pose
like rose
splendour
longed-for
oh, yes
timeless
15 April 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Notes: The Mona Lisa is an oil painting by Italian artist, inventor, and writer Leonardo da Vinci. Likely completed in 1506, the piece features a portrait of a seated woman set against an imaginary landscape.
In addition to being one of the most famous paintings, it is also the most valuable. Permanently located in the Louvre Museum, it is estimated to be worth an impressive $800 million today. (credits: mymodernmet.com)
Weepers with hoods —
tear-stained, faceless.
Dirge monks with shields.
Knight of the golden fleece
on a slab in requiem.
The silent mouth of Cicero.
Fell in love with this funereal piece
— Tomb of Philippe Pot
with life-sized pleurants.
His hands steepled in prayer,
a lion in repose at his feet —
Grand Seneschal of Burgundy
9/28/2020
Tomb of Philippe Pot
Louvre Museum
saw the Mona Lisa once - couldn't stop smiling
He spoke of a dream he had-
“I'm passing through a pyramid -
I am being pushed toward the outside
toward the light, and I am wet”.
This was too easy.
I told him
I understood the symbolism:
‘Your dream is about a spiritual rebirth.’
He seemed content.
The next day
he died of a heart attack
while leaving the glass pyramids
which form anti-chambers
to the Louvre museum.
It was raining at the time.
MONA LISA
For ten years his paint brushes danced to the motion
of his hands on a white Lombardy poplar panel,
creating inimitable effects with the image he created –
Yes! Of one Lisa Gherardini, wife of a nobleman,
Francesco del Giocondo.
For ten years he handled his painting like a holy grail,
seeking to perfect his genius in different colored
oils, fused together with the blessings of his muses.
He never painted Mona Lisa even once,
while he’s drunk or angry.
Today, the pristine state of his mind’s reflection in color,
can be seen in the Louvre Museum, in Paris.
Date: 02/05/2017
A dream vacation would be nice
All alone or with a little spice
Me, myself and I or a partner to ride
In the sky or on board
With some spice should I say more
You tour me and I tour you
Better yet let's tour the view
You never know what that can brew
Steamy hot and boiling too
On an island with a beach
Sunny rays no kids to leach
Surrounded with nothing but peace
Better yet surrounded by palm trees
In weather more than eighty degrees
Or better yet a place of sin
More amusing for adults and friends
Las Vegas where the night never ends
Glitzy, bright, casinos, right
A place where you really tend to spend all night
But maybe that's just too much fun
Just too loud with too many crowds
A better fantasy, romantic style
Paris or Italy wouldn't that be wild
A bunch of souvenirs of my fantasy compiled
The Eiffel Tower or the Louvre Museum or a visit to the Notre Dame Cathedral
With so much to see maybe I should bring people
But what ever I do and this might seem evil
I'll bring adults no little people
The painted smile that hangs on the wall
Still captures the hearts of men
Did he know that this smile would somehow beguile
And be such a treasure back then?
Poems and songs pay her tribute
And everyone knows her name
She couldn't have known as she sit all alone
That her smile would bring her such fame
He labored four years to capture her smile
But his painting would never be sold
It hung on his wall admired by all
A vision that would never grow old
Lisa Gheradini bore this famous smile
Started in fifteen hundred and three
It took him four years thru blood, sweat and tears
As he painted this history
She now sits at the Louvre museum
Owned by the Government of France
So the next time you're there it's okay if you stare
And give the Mona Lisa a glance
Once upon a time ago
Lived a man named Vincent Van Gogh.
His style of painting vexed a few
With importunities anew:
His long broad strokes and use of light
Bright yellows, mauve were his delight
Blues and oranges caught the eye
Contrasting when placed side by side
For all the beauty he expressed
It left him poor and dispossessed.
Life seems to fault the advent man
It’s been that way since time began.
Deceased his work has now become
Treasures in Louvre museum.
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