Oh Darling, look at what you've done Believed the tall tails of boys instead of the female at your feet But why would you when you have an ego that towers over the David? And you thought it was silly that I gifted you the name Michelangelo I couldn't have picked more right You though have forgotten that I am a master piece of my own creation, sculpted by none other but my own hands and never appreciated by yours And my sweet Michelangelo, if you think to call yourself my muse then you are nothing more than a fool For everything I have been through has led to my life's legacy My family chiselled out the shape My childhood chipped away at the detail And men like you did nothing more than carve in the finishing touches I am a beauty in my own right And as always too much for some to handle, and never fully understood by the rest But still she will live on through the ages So the next time darling that you fall confused, I implore you to simply ask the master herself And you would come to realize that this artist was far too focused on creating to let anyone interfere with her work
Mary Seacole Black nurse sculpture Your determination points To injustice. Your struggle To serve, be accepted. Why were you shamed and denied? This is the broken land where we live. Your courage, your stride Takes me to our weakness
To the ache in my chest like a broken blood vessel. And trace the lines in my hand To a bad rotting root. How many wounds did your hand with compassion soothe?
Behind your certitude I imagine pain. Did your hurting Search out injury and loss?
And as you nursed those violent lacerations, Patiently waiting whilst the pathway beat its course, Did you see as if through a veil, Your own fractured self, Fusing with your patient’s, Both your Injuries restore back together All the way towards their good health?
This poem is inspired by the sculpture by Michael Jennings which is of Mary Seacole which stands outside St Thomas's hospital looking over the river Thames and towards the House of Parliament.
She told us that our fumes are poisonous our water turned from majestic blue to coal seaweed color her innocent animals are dying from bullets and thorns plastic flying on branches as if they were nature green leaves
she told us this
And we did not listen to her we did not we took her for granted
So she got mad created something that can destroy the ones who betrayed her a virus that kills us making us afraid to leave from the safe box
She is not evil she is only trying to help the animals live longer and live with no fear
Venice water is clear as a mirror for dolphins to swim for swans to dance they are living with no fear she's happy her artwork can't be destroyed for now
we owe her an apology for the mistakes we created we must stop the hateful crime and love the artworks she created before once again we suffer in pain
I looked down at my artwork None of it looking good The eyes are saggy And the neck is a mess The arms are noodles The legs as well The stomach is disfigured And the hair looks like a nest The feet are squished The hands are sharp The ears are long And my mind is a wreck For I'm not looking at my artwork No, I'm looking at myself At all my flaws And insecurities All my mistakes And all my thoughts After all I know I'm not okay With how I look Or how I am So I act like im a failed artwork And fix myself To fit in this world