#frida
what she said about
all her loves and
the fountain of sleep
the spring of thirst
have just showed me
this resonant truth
like an oracle
I am still trapped
in this echo: that
I am as mad as
I've always been
maybe even worse
cause now I can see
the stars and the voids
in plain daylight
and I want to say
with all my waters
with all my earths
with all my deaths
with all my fallings
into the sky
Frida said
come what may
I wonder if she feared
the bloodflood
Dec 30, 2022
Dec 30, 2022 at 2:03 AM UTC
With you my second accident
I fight my private war.
Through all the hurt and suffering
I still come back for more.
I’ll be your child, I’ll be your dove
The two of us will see your love.
And you will place me far above
Then slash my very core.
Jan 21, 2021
Jan 21, 2021 at 8:54 AM UTC
I. The False Mirror
that's how it starts
dull and creeping.
shadows in the back of your mind.
reassuring you that the smoke
from their furious fire
is only temporary.
"Look away
lest the Light claim your eyes!".
the thing with shadows is
the more you look away
the further in
they close.
as flames roar
the only sound you hear
is a soothing song
of dominion.
until your world
is a vision
of black alabaster
where you can't tell the difference
between shadow and caster.
II. Portrait of An Owner
we take the medicine
that consumes us.
leaks through the cracks
in our spine.
dripping
we make moves in the dark.
tripping
over useless pieces
of used-to-be heart.
they say
the road less travelled
doesn't go our way.
they say
many have been led astray.
so we wait
in fear.
with bated breath
for the next hit
to keep us in place.
III. a bête noire
we were promised planes
but given straw wings
tethered to the shore.
they remind us
we can fly
but not to aim too high
or stray
too close to the light.
that we might see
what Icarus seen.
living isn't being
without a doubt
he would tell us
he didn't fly high enough.
so, for the spectacle
we'll gladly burn
alive.
belonging to none
severing ties.
that's how endings begin
bright and sprawling.
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 9:05 AM UTC
there on the scaffold
colorful cacophonous screams emanating from workman’s coveralls
captivated her
rebel in real life
engaged by her lack of hero worship dedication to her art the common cause
her fire drew him to her
and so they began to weave their tapestry
it tells a story
tumultuous
traveled
torn
tragic
timeless
true
brilliant hues
life
as art
compatriots
rebels
lovers
newsreels
public pride
personal degradation
recovery
reconciliation
back on the scaffold
cacophony revisited
back on bedrest
resilient resisting unceasing unaccepting
scaffold and ego deemed titanic-like demand artistic license uncompromising
crushed crumble disintegrate
lose face credibility
turn tale
and run to the one deemed feeble
whose
spirit knows no bonds
as body knows no freedom
yet
is Hercules for them both
until
the day her plaits were drawn crisscross on her forehead
decorated with huge glorious blossoms
plucked from the patio
lips kissed
last breath
a pair destined for the history books
a love
rollercoasterlargerthanlife
FateD?
Frida & Diego: FateD?
© 2017 rochelle foles
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 11:07 PM UTC
O fragrant wind float
a flower from Frida's hair
into my heart's crown.
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC
♪♥♫♥♫♥♪♥♫♥♫
My fantasies turned blonde in ‘seventy-six.
Bjorn, and the flickas sailed from East to West.
Santa Lucia never shone so blessed
as she did in my private Euro-mix.
Perfect pop longs for that feminine fix.
Cassette wheels whirred – branding, then impressing
grooves upon the brain; my thrall confessing
love for Nordic light (in Disco metrics).
The names still strike flames, kindling bright renown:
Frida, Agnetha – your longships linger
Your Viking faces sacked my harbor town.
portaging hope to this shipwrecked singer,
enwreathing smiles to reach our further shore.
I Do… (times five – and will forevermore).
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 10:49 PM UTC
Your soul was always isolated from
the world around you—from the very beginning. Time
alone was something you valued (as should we all)
but your isolation took on many forms—many
hungry shadows looming over you at all times.
A collision of iron and steel left you
immobile, and by the standards expected of
women, useless: your womb would never swell,
and you would never experience the pain of
bringing a child into this cruel world.
The fractures
and the wounds healed, but you
never recovered.
In the face of impossibility, you still
tried in desperation; leaving you in cold
unfamiliar hospital rooms, where all you
can see is an alien landscape; where all you
can think about is the reasons you are here,
and the reasons your baby will never be.
It is a pain in your heart that leaves you gutted
like the iron handrail that embedded itself
through your ****** The bed is soaked
with your tears and your blood; it is the pain
of knowing that you will never hold a baby
who sees you as God; you will never experience
the love of a child, glowing with innocence.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 10:58 PM UTC
I dreamed of Frida Kahlo
"yo era ella amante"
pure, paupered prince to her primal queen
yet still I hollowed a carnal niche into the midst
of one perdurable, lurid " noche de los muertos"
and fingered the lachrymose from her lacerations
counting prurient time in a piercing nine of
perennial persecution before I wore her pelt
to lay me down in her sanguinary glow
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 6:54 AM UTC
1. Her thick brow,
Is only her choice.
A stance against norms.
2. Ribbons and flowers,
All tangled in her hair.
A decorative crown,
But beauty is not defined here.
3. She had many lovers,
Of many kinds.
But promiscuity,
Does not define worth.
4. Drink more than the men.
To dance with a love,
They can never have.
5. Politics are unimportant,
Only the ideas in your mind.
Of equality and charity,
But it will leave somebody dead.
6. Be bold and smart.
Follow your own direction,
Maybe dress like a man
7. When a trolley crashes,
Leaving you wishing for death,
Draw on your bandage.
Don’t let your broken column
Break your strength.
8. Don’t fall in love with artists,
They drink too much,
Cheat too much.
And will break your heart
9. Fall in love with artists,
A musician, maybe a painter.
You’ll never be bored,
You’ll always be drunk.
10. Just don’t let them break you,
Don’t stop painting because you’re hurt.
Don’t give them the satisfaction,
Of breaking your wings.
11. You don’t need anyone,
When you have wigs to fly.
Don’t need feet,
Or anyone else.
12. You probably feel like a freak,
Like the weirdest person you’ve ever known.
But as long as you’re weird with me,
You’ll never be weird alone.
13. Make friends with the past,
With people you’ve never known.
It’ll always be a source of security,
No one can leave that’s already gone.
I look at Frida through her paint, through her words, through the story of her life she has taught me not to be afraid.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC