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Nigdaw May 2022
she has produced a biscuit
that claims a Mona Lisa likeness
confectionary imbued with worth
far beyond a humble foodstuff
to be digested by a sweet tooth
novelty birthday gift consumed
likeness acknowledged in a minute
taste appreciated in seconds
party over

Leonardo lived with her as a mistress
never parting with his commission
of a merchant’s daughter
perfecting every stroke and nuance
haunted by that beguiling smile
she had him in her clutches forever
now the world lives for the minute
appreciates in seconds and moves on
there are no more banquets
just mere morsels
Mark Toney Mar 2020
saw the Mona Lisa once - couldn't stop smiling

© 2020 by Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.
2-20-2020 - Poetry form: Monoku - © 2020 by Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.
TIMAH Feb 2020
The shape of the reason why I am not getting any response from you,

                it's ʀʜᴏᴍʙɪᴄᴏsiᴅᴏᴅᴇᴄᴀʜᴇᴅʀᴏɴ

20 regular triangular faces,
30 square faces,
12 regular pentagonal faces,
60 vertices and 120 edges,
Yet you told me our hearts are asymmetrical?

Paint me as the woman you once loved,
Blend my past and future into one another

                 in sfᴜᴍᴀᴛᴏ

Without lines or borders,
With myriads of minuscule brushstrokes,
Till the smoke hoaxes their visual for few seconds,
Albeit they know what they saw some time after,

The melody of your heartbeat,
Just like my poems,

                   it's ᴜɴʀʜʏᴛʜᴍɪᴄ

"Lub-dub lub-dub lub-dub lub lub lub-dub",
Every single night failed to lullaby,
So all this time I've been an insomniac,
Wide awake studying the pattern of your pulse as you call it a night.
Richard Frank Jan 2020
She, like Mona Lisa
Mysterious yet lovely
A smile full of simplicity and joy

Crafted by the hand of God, perfection shows itself
When you look at me, I thought I had you
A face that encapsulates  beauty and popularity

Perhaps that's why I never had you?
You were stolen by someone else
No matter how
you sugarcoat it,
there is never
a nice way
of calling someone


“You would have been beautiful
in the Renaissance era
[because in the Renaissance era
they painted portraits
of chubby girls like you—
back then,
fat was artistry.]

I still don’t know what
I was more upset about:
The backhanded compliment--
"would have"
being synonymous for
"no longer"--
or the fact that
I was conditioned
to believe the
Mona Lisa
was anything short of  
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience.)
John Shahul Oct 2018
Whenever  I am not seeing you
Lethal void is my heart
Like the monolithic art
Of a sculptor;
Like the figures of Mona Lisa,
I tried to engrave you
Again and again in my heart
And rehearsed you many times
In my memories.

To reconstitute
Your beautiful image
Inside of my mind
I behold you thousand times,
Yet all loving and languishing
Nothing could be captured
To match your perfection
As you were seen in person
Nor could be remembered
To your many dimensional figure
Of youth unclaimed.

You are just beautiful but demure,
Seductive but unrevealing
A love that slips down
Near your lips were forbidden?
And be never told?

Like two balsam flowers unfold
Opening from their buds,
Your eyelids are open wide.
Like two bees ******* honey
My eyes were seeking yours
To ferret out the secret
Of your true love and desires;
Neither did they come out
Nor did they flutter
And never reached out
My beehive safely.

Seeking out for your true love
In your eyes, in your lips,
Cheeks and chin far and near,
Everywhere  all over you,
Looking at you all the time.
You are open to interpretation
Of your true intention
Of your love and desires
Like the secret smiles
Of Mona Lisa.

Until you make confession
Of your true love,
I will behold you thousand times,
You are just beautiful but demure
Looking for you all the time.
You make me dream about you
While in my sleep or I am awake.

My discrete memories
Are overshadowed by time,
I cannot fight with my feelings
Whenever  I am not seeing you,
Lethal void is my heart,
Come and meet me in person!
syncopation Oct 2018
Keeping you as my secret
As though the world unknowing
Is infinitely empowering
Like the Mona Lisa smiling
Her gaze perpetrating
Knowing thoughts discerning
Never disclosing yet ever imparting
Secrets untelling
Keeping you guessing and searching
For an inevitable unveiling
Yearning unabating
Pyrrha Aug 2018
We always talks about putting our broken pieces back together
Or we speak of mending another with tape and glue
Like stitches that won't undo
But putting the pieces back together wont make them new
Why don't we ever think about picking up each others broken parts
And placing them where ours once were
Instead of fixing a puzzle with missing pieces
Why don't we become art
And fill each other with beautiful parts?

All that you find broken about yourself
All that I find rotten within my hollow shell
Are colorful pieces to complete a work of art
If you take some of me and make it beautiful
Then perhaps one day I too could see the beauty I betray
I'll do the same for you as I collect these magnificent additions
To the masterpiece that I make of myself
One day we will become Mona Lisa and The Starry Night
Not only will we be the art we will become the artists
As grand as DaVinci, as unique as Van Gogh
We will fill this world with our broken art
And make others learn that there is beauty in every splintered part
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