Short Frida Poems

Frida rode a ferry,
Timmy on a train,
Perry beat them both,
He flew on a plane....

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Dark
lady-
feminine
beauty,coupled with
strength

Dama de Blanco by Frida Kahlo 1907-54

read my ekphrasis chapbook Poiems on line @ http://poiemaekphrasis.blogspot.com/...

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Frida died today
sixty three years gone those brows,
but her art lives on.

Such pain and great strength,
with fierce love for painting,
and for Diego.

So many selfies,
Mexican skulls and culture
a unique vision....

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Frida Kahlo self portrayed her face
though little feeling it was to trace
She began her art whilst ill in bed
of her marriage difficulties,much was said

Diego Rivera ,the husband of Frida Kahlo
did not always true love..show
His many infidelities made her separate
perhaps.causing her art to compensate...

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…painted myself
long neck’d giraffe
long arms of healing
short sleeves


painted myself
   …painted myself


…painted myself
as only i conceived
nailed
to a cross beneath
my ghostly gown


painted myself
   …painted myself


…painted myself
a fruity garden
on my head
concealing
chief thorns


painted myself
   …painted myself

7/23/2021...

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Don't bother counting swallows,
I can tell you it's not summer yet.
Winter after winter follows and
my wager is as safe as wagers get
that speeches will be shallow
at the Tory Party Conference
where wearing bangled images of Frida Kahlo
does not inspire public confidence.
Maybe counting birds isn't such a bad suggestion;
but what season follows next, that is the question....

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Self Portrait
in a
Landscape
with the Sun
Going Down
1954

Is this the end of the road for 
me? 
I can not rest now on my 
dying bed, 
Too bleak with the sun going 
down fast,
This is not happening to me.
Not when all I want to do is 
paint damm it!


When i looked at this 
portrait, and wrote i did not 
know it was her last! she died 
shortly from depression.  .   ....

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I sit here
Hair all around
I am shorn
My hair has gone 
But my anxiety remains

Why?
Why do I feel so useless
Why do I feel that I have been torn apart
Only to be put back together
With a hole where my soul once lived

So I cut my hair
To be free
I am not free
I am without.
Now I must paint
Draw my soul
To return it to its place

Will I then be free of my anxiety.


Painting:  Self portrait with cropped hair...

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