"leonardo" poems
*What if we had met
In Florence, say five centuries ago
Would you have let
Me be your Leonardo ?
You gentle face I would have framed
In the back, a sfumato of Tuscany
You, I would have named
My Mona Lisa, smiling to eternity.*
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
My heart goes numb
And my stomach turns sour
When it becomes apparent
That best male actor
Has been won by a man
With an alliterative name
And I still have
The same number of
Oscars
As Leonardo DiCaprio
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
A mystery to solve in a famous frame
Smiling from canvas a story to tell
Oh lady of the portrait oh lady of fame
The painter captured your face so well
Those who study art ponder and ruminate
The enigmatic pose that doth beguile
No brush strokes convey your mind state
All angels inspected of daubed smile
Yet the secret stays ever concealed
Baffling them all lady you assuredly do
Nothing of the puzzle is revealed
So well hidden and never in view
Leonardo da Vinci yielded not a clue
When he masterfully conceived of you
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 7:16 AM UTC
OR
The Child Is Father Of The Man, But Not For Quite A While
So Thomas Edison
Never drank his medicine;
So Blackstone and Hoyle
Refused cod-liver oil;
So Sir Thomas Malory
Never heard of a calory;
So the Earl of Lennox
Murdered Rizzio without the aid of vitamins or calisthenox;
So Socrates and Plato
Ate dessert without finishing their potato;
So spinach was too spinachy
For Leonardo da Vinaci;
Well, it's all immaterial,
So eat your nice cereal,
And if you want to name your ration,
First go get a reputation.
3.8k
Enticing us in, sugar coated doors
for sticky fingers,
Doors of mystery, keep out, staff only
nettled in barbed wire.
Half open doors full of promise,
chocolate soft centred
Exciting doors, silk covered
in lace suspenders
Inspiring doors, Leonardo bold italic,
uppercase only
Lonely doors all shuttered in silence,
cobweb covered
Sad doors, tear stained
and umbrella wet
Happy doors,
candy striped in laughter
Forbidden doors, Pandora boxed,
best kept locked
Revolving doors covered
with the same sticky mistakes
Trap doors crocodile sprung
to catch you out
Doors that slide on tram like runners,
buffered into walls with imprint of face
Secret doors of camouflaged chameleon
Troubled doors
thunder clapped in turmoil
Doors enticing us.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
And just like that, the two most impossible things happened.
1. We were over
2. Leonardo DiCaprio won an Oscar
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
As I let my mind wander into time, and release these binds that have me confined, I began to feel a great energy, like the sun had been compressed and put into me, and as time tic tocs and unwinds into its trail of infinity. I realize a trinity mind body soul, they burn as a whole, for the mightiest of goals. and as time unwinds it'll leave you behind. unless you get your spot in, a line of legacys never to be forgotten
Confucius, Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Martin Luther King Jr, George Washington, Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara, Nelson Mendala, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, Steve Jobs, Stephen Hawkins, Leonardo Da Vinci, Wolfgang Amedeus Mozart, nikola tesla, Wael Ghonim, Jimi Hendrix, Joseph Stiglitz, Reed Hastings, François Rabelais, Archimedes, Sigmund Frued, Charles Darwin, Aryabhata, Bob Marley, Garrett Morgan, George Washington Carver, Aristotle, John Locke, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Plato, Galileo Galilei...and many many more...
Stand for something. Think outside the box. Evolve and express yourself. Make a difference #STEM #LegacyToIfinity
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
Nobody knows who Mona Lisa is in reality
Oh Leonardo my love
you need not tell
that I come to see you
invariably in your dreams
reviving our first kiss
No I shall not pronounce the last
each and every painful farewell rhymes
an onomatopoeic verse of please stays
and stay this time Please
I know that you can if
you make it such that
truth belongs to everyone
All as one made of our love
spirit born as You
and I will gaze through
lifetimes and generations long
exchange love to love
be of yours and theirs
there is no difference really
when each look carries the code
of your of my of our
and mirror their
enlightened face.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 5:37 PM UTC
What does a painter do? A painter paints.
Of paintings inspired by the universe;
Of legends luminous as pious saints.
But people like me work to fill my purse.
Not artisan by trade nor rich merchant,
With rough and stubby fingers callused palms,
I'll starve if I were the master's servant
And soon to take the streets to beg for alms.
I paint for sake of commerce not for art;
I paint all kinds of buildings, houses, schools.
None enters, jobs can't start till I depart;
Scrappers, ladders, paints, brushes are my tools.
Do what I'm commissioned to do. To paint.
But Leonardo or Angelo I ain't.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
In just seven steps, you can find out:
• How to make the best scrambled eggs
[pepper ‘n love]
• How to improve Scrabble scores
[suffixes are our friends]
• How to buy a house
[budget before sealing the deal]
• How to think like Leonardo Da Vinci
[infectious curiosity and commitment]
But despite the obscene amount of time,
I spend scouring and scrolling,
I can’t seem to stumble upon,
The part of the Internet,
That has the instructions,
To keep your heart happy,
While keeping my mind sane.
Perhaps the sadness and insanity,
Will be a welcome change,
Allowing us to rediscover each other,
In the most honest light.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
Having a Coke with You
is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian
partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt
partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches
partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary
it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still
as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it
in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth
between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles
and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint
you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them
I look
at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world
except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick
which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together the first time
and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism
just as at home I never think of the **** Descending a Staircase or
at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me
and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them
when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank
or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully
as the horse
it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience
which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I am telling you about it
by,
FRANK O'HARA
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 12:27 PM UTC
I’m a renaissance woman.
Not in the sense that I’ll birth your children, and keep a perfect clean house
I am a Muse.
I rebirthed and reclaimed my mind and body
Away from the Dark Age of adolescence
So, I can finally feel present in my own skin
I’m a renaissance man in a woman’s body
Not in the sense that I feel trapped in the wrong time, place or body
But that I've become skilled in many fields
I will never stop trying to better myself
I have designed and engineered a par of perfect wings.
I guess you’ve never seen an angel in disguise
But unlike Icarus, my wings can hold me,
So, **** you Leonardo, I’m a better renaissance woman than you were a renaissance man
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 10:56 AM UTC
I wish I could party with Leonardo DiCaprio
We'd be crazier than "The Wolf of Wall Street"
Johnny Depp would be there, too, riding in the backseat
He would come up and sit with Leo and I, at the party on the couch
And say "Arnie stop it, you're doing too much coke. AHA, just kidding now scoot over and let me have a blow."
After we'd wipe our noses, up we go
To dance, dance, dance and drink drinks that glow
Hours on end we would spend our money brutally
Because our money basically speaks english fluently
Yeah, Leonardo DiCaprio would be a badass friend
Johnny Depp too, we'd have too much fun in the end
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
/ conversation over a bbq dinner
being given the information
over a new M.I. movie..
i really think tom cruise
should have won an oscar for -
born on the 4th of july...
without bias,
but given the oscar award for
the grunting and heaving,
and minimal dialogue / monologue
of leonardo's the revenant?
the world is a cul de sac...
and what remains of it...
is a shitshow worth, of a congested street
with nothing but, paupers /
window-shoppers to be lined up;
mannequins coming alive
and taking to disco dancing
the hell out of having donned
a boney m afro;
drunk, squinty eyed...
looking around, surmising my
thought with... huh?!
it's a good thing i'm this good at
drinking, never having dropped acid.
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 10:38 PM UTC
The Basketball Diaries
I’m losing my faith in humanity,
and I’m just as much a part of the problem,
here I’ll explain an example,
it involves The Basketball Diaries,
went to a rooftop cinema in Budapest,
there I met two beautiful girls,
they brought me up to the VIP,
fed me drinks and helped me feel again,
it was a bit surreal,
on that rooftop,
watching Leo on the big screen,
it’s always surreal seeing someone on screen that I’ve actually met,
Leo’s a cool guy,
trying to save the world even though it all seems hopeless,
anyways there I was watching Leonardo DiCaprio,
play the starring role of a strung out poet,
the parallels are there,
but my addiction is not ******
yes I’m strung out,
but my drug of choice is women friends,
so when the two girls in the VIP,
got closer and closer to me,
I feel deeper and deeper in love,
because I love unconditionally without apologies,
we went back to my place,
I put some videos on my projector screen,
I almost had *** with one of them,
the one I though would be my girlfriend,
her friend interrupted,
girl interrupted,
boy interrupted,
she said she wanted a guy to have *** with too,
so we went back out,
albeit reluctantly,
to a cliche club with a bunch of tourist,
so my girl’s friend could get some exotic ****
it was then I realized,
as the two danced together,
trying to lure in a man,
just to get him inside of them,
that humanity is truly lost,
and apart of me died,
right there on that dance floor,
I felt the club,
see,
I don’t want to find a girl to just fck at night,
I don’t want a dawn goodbye,
I want mimosas with my lover at brunch the next day,
I guess I’m too much of a romantic,
that’s what I get for being a poet,
feeling strung out like Leo,
just searching for another fix,
just chasing that first high,
that first real love,
but all I find out here these days,
is ******* and hoes that are counterfeit,
fck it,
I’m so done,
maybe I should become a monk,
my life is too blessed,
to mess with these girls that couldn’t care less,
I miss,
humanity,
and I watch it sparkle and fade,
as I add another piece of me to this charade,
a piece of me died on that dance floor,
and I probably deserved the pain that brought,
and call me naive or whatever,
but I still feel that not all hope is lost,
see,
I’m losing my faith in humanity,
and I’m just as much a part of the problem,
here I’ll explain an example,
it involves The Basketball Diaries…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 8:02 PM UTC
*What if we had met
In Florence, say five centuries ago
Would you have let
Me be your Leonardo ?
You gentle face I would have framed
In the back, a sfumato of Tuscany
You, I would have named
My Mona Lisa, smiling to eternity.
*
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 10:25 AM UTC
You offered me your body,
I offered in return:
A tuna fish sandwich,
A nice piece of carnelian,
Maybe a book or two about odd things
like death by electrocution or Leonardo da Vinci
or the history of the upright bass,
Endless records,
Enough jazz to paint the world blue,
My mouth forming the shapes of notes,
A breath from my own lungs,
The scarf which was lovingly knit for me
by my one remaining friend,
Lipstick, bright red and smooth,
Feathers from a hawk that I found by the road,
Dried pink roses from a corsage,
Two baby teeth in a container that once held film,
Hair shorn with a dull kitchen knife,
A collar of cracked burgundy leather,
Sachets smelling faintly of lavender,
A mirror which was cracked on my thirteenth birthday,
One lace glove.
Why did you leave?
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 9:19 AM UTC
Faded tree figures loom near,
visible as a smear
on what used to be the Mona Lisa.
The great work of art
goes to waste
as its paint is fingered,
by each person,
like its some sort of photocopy,
covering the masterpiece
with old, dirt, and impurities
that are not naturally occurring on skin.
Leonardo da Vinci would be appalled
at our treatment of his gift,
made to be given to one person,
yet he loved it...
and gave it to us instead.
Now stare once again
at its poor condition.
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 3:10 PM UTC
I once met a boy on the school bus I used to ride
I find it ironic that I was walking down the aisle
When I saw him
---
He had a girlfriend and charisma
I had a heart and innocence
In one weekend he took both of them
---
That Saturday I snuck out to see him
Alcohol had him intoxicated
Infatuation had me
---
A single cloud hung in the sky
An entire galaxy composed of water droplets
He pointed at it *"If I wasn't so wasted,
I'd swear that's the Milky Way"*
"We're standing on the Milky Way"
---
"I want to kiss you right now"
"You don't even know me"
"What don't I know"
Everything "Name a hobby of mine"
"Writing"
Lucky guess
"My favorite actor"
"Ashton Kutcher"
I shook my head
"Leonardo Dicaprio" then "Patrick Dempsey" then "Ryan Gosling"
"He was"
"Past tense - Who is"
"You are"
"What role have I played"
"A role in my life"
He laughed then insisted that he wasn't playing anything
He promised me that he wasn't acting
---
"You won't even remember this in the morning"
"If I do"
"If you do, tell me-"
"Last night we were standing on the Milky Way"
"Yeah tell me that"
---
"Last night we were standing on the Milky Way"
He laughed when I tilted my head
"You remembered"
"Everything"
I folded those words and put them in my pocket
He folded my heart and placed it in his
---
But his promises were
Shorter than my nails.
(When I bit them)
And that evening, his mother found
My heart in their washing machine
A victim to the rinse cycle
---
He deserves an Oscar.
Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 9:46 PM UTC
I have been learning how to die,
have prepared myself at every
intersection or doctor's office,
have been whispering
Good Bye
like last words,
every time.
I have been learning how to be a corpse,
have been rotting from the
inside out,
have been peeling away the decaying flesh
beside my fingernails,
on the inside of my lip,
around the wounds that I know will never get the chance to heal now.
I have been learning how to be a skeleton,
have been leaving empty spaces
between ribs
and
vertebrae,
have been training myself to lie still
in small, dark places.
I have been learning how to be a ghost,
have haunted my own
home,
have found solace
in inhabiting this body
that I claim to belong in,
I have been learning how to regret.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 11:54 AM UTC
You tell the tale of your perfect life
But you can't even undress your wife
Or spend a weekend with your kids
And visit your parents that you didn't miss.
You spread your arms to boast your wealth
But you didn't even mind your health
All those luxuries to feed your hungry ego
Can't fill you up and every night you bellow.
You act like a king in your tiny office
But you're just a parrot caged in your petty worries
In a cramped up square of your own limits
A boring building of dancing digits.
You spend the night with your circle of friends
But they don't really appreciate your presence
Wrapped inside your own bubble of vanity
A suffocating sphere nobody wishes to be.
You claim to be a man of godly proportions
But you're a sad case that needs divine intervention
Your life is certainly a rare work of art
But Leonardo da Vinci would tear you apart.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC
Behind the sweetie shop,
under the reproductions,
Leonardo, Botticelli -
Dark haired girl in shorts
hides the softness of a rabbit in her heart.
And across the stone wall,
love is riding a
borrowed bike.
- From the grey as sky jackets,
From the strange eyes...
I'll remember you
Cinnamon, dandelions and rain.
Sundays silently glittering walls.
Dark haired girl in shorts
drinks coffee and herds dusty tones.
And across the stone wall -
summer street
and souls bound.
- From the trembling fingers,
From the hats -
I'll remember you
Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 5:25 PM UTC
I endured the pain in the battlefield as a soldier,
Keeping my promises of returning at any haste.
That day, I would be coming home to marry her:
No moments left to shatter, or time left to waste.
A woman that all eyes of men are worthy to see,
Mona Lisa, a lovely name engraved in my scars.
In the train, I reckoned the memories so silently;
Our love has no ends, it was written in the stars.
An advent of a man’s burning pleasure for love,
I knocked the door, but silence whispered fear.
I entered; I found a painting on the stairs above;
An enticing self-portrait of Mona Lisa, my dear.
The dusk was painted by the colors of her smile,
I… I… I saw her with another man in the dark!
I traveled for miles only to witness that betrayal
Of her and bestfriend Leonardo, making a spark.
Bloodstained walls, caused by my troubled guns;
(She sewed my heart and then rent it into pieces).
I… I… I did **** them with my begrimed hands!
Should I cry for the sullen load of those britches?
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 8:13 AM UTC
Blessed, yet sinful one, and broken-hearted!
The crowd are pointing at the thing forlorn,
In wonder and in scorn!
Thou weepest days of innocence departed;
Thou weepest, and thy tears have power to move
The Lord to pity and love.
The greatest of thy follies is forgiven,
Even for the least of all the tears that shine
On that pale cheek of thine.
Thou didst kneel down, to Him who came from heaven,
Evil and ignorant, and thou shalt rise
Holy, and pure, and wise.
It is not much that to the fragrant blossom
The ragged brier should change; the bitter fir
Distil Arabian myrrh!
Nor that, upon the wintry desert's *****
The harvest should rise plenteous, and the swain
Bear home the abundant grain.
But come and see the bleak and barren mountains
Thick to their tops with roses: come and see
Leaves on the dry dead tree:
The perished plant, set out by living fountains,
Grows fruitful, and its beauteous branches rise,
For ever, towards the skies.
1.6k