Duccio poems on Hello Poetry

Christopher Hendrix Dec 2014

And now we see the singularity
of the artist, wrists spread bare on
mimed canvas, finally we see
his consistency.
Lazarus is dead on the first day.
Gold background, rocky outcrop,
sense of cluttered space.
Do you see the decay?
Can you sympathize, or do you notice?

I cannot sympathize with Duccio,
I am too vain to admit his Maestá
survives while my brain rots from
alcohol. But I remember Duccio is
at least fifty years old when his Maestá
preeminently destroys my career
as a visual artist. I do not mind.

Lazarus is dead on the second day.
Duccio had many pupils, among them
Simone Martini, whose Annunciation
is a cropped rehash of Byzantine/Gothic
flopped with Duccio's handy flair,
a pious reverence and virtue.
It sweeps and moves. Or attempts.
Lazarus is no longer sleeping.

I have never been to the city of Florence,
not now nor the 1300s, so I need not
explain my lack of comprehension.
Lazarus has risen now,
but it is different than I remember.
Lazarus is all alone, and
Lazarus is alive,
doomed to walk in mortal Hellfire
a second time over.

#art #history #martini #duccio

Leonardo Tonini Sep 2018

POEM 4 (poesia 4)

You can’t say that the sky is clear today,
its colour isn’t the one of the Wisteria either
and the golden light (which is intelligence)
comes from it as the background of one of the
Madonna with Child paintings by Duccio or Simone Martini.
I can’t definitely say with certainty
that the sun melts in the sea to the West,
(West/****) if you have never seen the sea.
The trembling singing of a bird fades
with the noisy traffic jam on the road.

*

POESIA 4:

Il cielo oggi non può dirsi limpido
e nemmeno che ha il colore del glicine
e che la luce d’oro (che è intelligenza)
scenda da esso come il fondo di una Madonna col Bambino
di Duccio o di Simone Martini.
Non posso certo affermare con sicurezza
che il sole si scioglie nel mare a occidente
(occidente/uccidente) se non hai mai visto il mare.
Il tremulo canto di un uccello si confonde
con il rumore del traffico sulla strada.

The last poem for the Luton Festival. If you have any suggestions on the translation, let me know.

#sky #colour #wisteria #west #bird #traffic

vienna bombardieri Feb 2021

Forgotten Cathedrals

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8AKSuBBTh7Y

External decorations of solid gold heralding entrances of Axi Mundi creation, paintings and sculptures of another era, sacred eyes await at the forefront.
Feel free to enter in, peace, love, understanding, mystical adoration all here. Present in this place the Sanctuary bliss of those who trust.  You are welcome to walk through; (B)
A Crevole Madonna by Duccio, an ecclesiastical architecture of a cathedral diagram.  Walls to window, walsl to window , stained glass Saints  are watch you.
Teer upon teer  you and the Deity, have  dominion here. Solid wood and thin veneer ,  why have you come here r ? (B)
If you have entered the main doors, then you belong here, join the monastic foundations of the Holy order. Inside these empty pews the sacred space is here for you. If you long to belong, then do not fear the light , come join the choral of angels that hover over here, close and near.
Walk through the pillars and settle into the nave of the Church.
Make yourself at home. (B)
Let us climb to the spire roof , by the bell tower, where the ears listen and the souls open, prepared to live a life of purity and joy, we hear the bells ring, and remember, forgotten Cathedrals of old .
Whispering "you are home, " Like children of the light that enter in
as the doors open, we recall the long forgotten sermons of yesterday

— The End —