I saw the original statue at the Galleria dell' Accademia, yet, a copy of David, silhouetted against the golden sky, looming large on a hill at Michelangelo Square, was truly awesome...
David at Michelangelo Square
He stands tall.Black granite
Silhouetted against the crimson sky
Proud and blithe,
A faraway look in his eyes
Dishevelled golden locks
One leg tense, alert,
Right hand hangs at his side
The other, relaxed,
Bent to hold a slingshot,
Casually slung over his shoulder,
Dynamic, active, ready for fight,
Every ripple of his muscles
Tugging deep, at the root of my vitals...
So much grace,
Such unabashed
Show of strength,
Courage, vitality,
Virility, sensuality,
Beauty in full splendor
Towering over me.
I look up
In awe
Mesmerized.
I Long, Crave...Pulverize
He is not real.
He is not there.
Yet,
I,
A mortal
Puny woman,
Uninitiated,
All of twenty-one
Helplessly stare and
Yearn.
The sun sets behind the hill,
The valley lights up
With thousands of lights blinking in its belly,
Clouds play hide-and-seek with the Sun...
I lie down on the cool, velvet grass
I Succumb,
Slain, a Goliath, at his feet.
I Envy Bathsheba
Three thousand years too late...
Day and Night, Down and Dusk
A look-over his feat in mock glee.
Heaven's twinkle stars above...
Florence is witness to my first unrequited love...
Author: Zoya Zaidi
Aligarh (UP), India
Copyright©: Zoya Zaidi
Poetry by Zoya Zaidi
Read 1728 times
Written on 2005-11-21 at 05:02
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