my first lust

 

 

~

 

sitting on the floor

of my grandparents' rambling house

 

distracted

as they were

by themselves, their conversation

their drinks

 

i had solitude

 

sitting on the floor of the library

a huge volume of paintings, a tome of serious weight

take it both ways

on my young lap, having no sense

 

of timeline

or what these paintings meant, or who painted them, or why

yet fascinated

 

the cover black, as faded

as the binding was tattered

not by way of browsing, but by way of time, books like this

gather age effortlessly

 

moved

as it must have been 

from house to house and shelf to shelf

time and time again

 

for no one in this house

would have ever opened it, but i did

 

i wish i had the book with me now

i know to which painting

i would turn

 

the one of jesus on the cross

nailed

bleeding

beatific

 

tragic eyes pointed heavenward

 

why father, why

 

as if he had finally found peace reluctantly

 

acolytes, apostles

perfect strangers, livestock, at his dying feet

 

a drape of fabric round his loins

a crown of thorns, unnecessary, driving home the point

a weeping gash below his ribs 

 

two more men hanging upon crosses

lesser men

i supposed

on each side of him

lower on the hill, echoing his celebrity and pain

 

i cared not a whit for them

it was jesus that compelled me to steal the book upstairs

to a closed door

to dreamy, damp imaginings i couldn't understand

that left me ill and restless

 

~

 





Poetry by one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 707 times
Written on 2015-11-13 at 05:51

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
The painting must have seemed quite harsh for young eyes. Perhaps people do not buy such books anymore. Nice ones that can be handed down through the family. This piece made me think of the wonderful books that I had when I was young. Those books were our world really. An entrance into knowledge and art and culture. Probably all destroyed now or in landfill. But they were once so precious. Thanks for reminding me.
2015-11-17


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Good thing they didn't subscribe to the National Geographic.
2015-11-14


Nancy Sikora
When I was very young, a woman who was a Jehovah's Witness used to babysit for me sometimes and she had several Bibles lying around. I remember one of the copies had a picture of Jesus on the cross and somebody had used red marker to make the wounds on the hands, feet and side look very bloody. I remember feeling somewhat strange after looking at it.
2015-11-14


Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
This reminded me, of discovering my mother books - she had an art collection of prints from so many artists (I still have them) and a book explaining the stories behind the great ballet's (no longer have) - I still look at the pictures from time to time - not sure why my mother had them as I didn't know her but looking at them used to make me feel closer :-)

Elle x
2015-11-13



We had a similar, old family bible with pictures of those beautiful paintings. They are gorgeous, and definitely sensuous in their amazing beauty. You have done An honest and courageous rendition of a young person's reaction to such perfect and explicit beauty. A vert well written poem.
Ashe
2015-11-13