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"medici" poems
Venezia, its musical key of brick and shade And the canals in rejoining polyphony Sweeten the dour Church-ear.   From the impasto knife and loose brushwork, A thumb-smear of waves and gently-bristled strife Rise to assumption of the cloud-submerged bay, Mural of cristallo, only-light without landscape, Made too from the winds of Murano, Its clayed blowpipe of waterways molding The lagoon of blown glass and bouquet of colored sea-shadows. The Tiber lies on its side, like the lion and fox, Licking its paws at empire’s dust, A drifting gaze of water that already foresees The swift-run northward to Romagna, Where the veined fur of the roe will succumb… A ripple twitches like one dark claw of the Borgia… The watercolors of the Arno are a fresco On the wet plaster of the lips of Firenze, Tuscan fire-dream. Or like the warring leg in curve of counterpoise, Sprung foot-forward to the daring world And arm slung down in stone-victory From this valley, too much like Elah, With taunting eyes turned from the Medici toward Rome.
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May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 10:06 AM UTC
Waters of Rebirth
There's a painting by Botticelli I've always loved, showing Venus being born naked from the ocean and not fearing the current. Those around her renounce her body, scrambling to clothe her, turn her virginal, contain the way her eyes cross galaxies, shine all the way to Pluto. But she is soft, unwavering, not noticing the mortals' concern about her ******* and bare collarbone that could catch water at its base. I found you halfway across the world on the steps of the Uffizi and in the 3 hours it took you to show me some of the best art on earth, I was transfixed only on the orbits of planets in your eyes. Shortly before the sun set, you took me through the secret corridor Cosimo de' Medici built to walk across the rooftops of the city where you kissed me but told me you didn't believe in love, that all you needed was art, and Michelangelo, and in that moment I saw Venus in your collarbone. Saw a shell under your feet, saw the universe in the way your freckles connected, saw how you immortalize yourself among the rest of the art in Florence so no human can bring you down to earth, can make your heart stop, show you what it's like to cross timezones with a single touch. And here I am, wanting to be your Botticelli, to paint the uneven slope of your shoulders, the crookedness of your right ankle, your fear of exposing yourself to someone who could love you. It must be lonely out there, Venus, on your little fishing boat by the sea. Botticelli's painting was found long after his death, laid into the floor of an abandoned villa in the south of Tuscany. Venus looking lost and mortal between cracked paint and chipping walls, like the way you hide between the dusty statues of the dead statesmen and fading portraits long after the museum closes, just you with only history to hold. You want to believe in love as past-tense, like you've lost faith in present participles and the fact that art is still being made, and people are running barefoot into future conjugations together. Don't come back to land, Venus. Vanessa. I won't be here waiting with a towel or an art critic or a spaceship. But maybe, just make a little room for me on your shell under the sun, atop steady waves or Florentine rooftops. Throw the map overboard. Let's forget the shore. And Michelangelo and the rest of them will smile as they see us off.
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Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 5:18 PM UTC
And Michelangelo Agrees With Me
There's a painting by Botticelli I've always loved, showing Venus being born naked from the ocean and not fearing the current. Those around her renounce her body, scrambling to clothe her, turn her virginal, contain the way her eyes cross galaxies, shine all the way to Pluto. But she is soft, unwavering, not noticing the mortals' concern about her ******* and bare collarbone that could catch water at its base. I found you halfway across the world on the steps of the Uffizi and in the 3 hours it took you to show me some of the best art on earth, I was transfixed only on the orbits of planets in your eyes. Shortly before the sun set, you took me through the secret corridor Cosimo de' Medici built to walk across the rooftops of the city where you kissed me but told me you didn't believe in love, that all you needed was art, and Michelangelo, and in that moment I saw Venus in your collarbone. Saw a shell under your feet, saw the universe in the way your freckles connected, saw how you immortalize yourself among the rest of the art in Florence so no human can bring you down to earth, can make your heart stop, show you what it's like to cross timezones with a single touch. And here I am, wanting to be your Botticelli, to paint the uneven slope of your shoulders, the crookedness of your right ankle, your fear of exposing yourself to someone who could love you. It must be lonely out there, Venus, on your little fishing boat by the sea. Botticelli's painting was found long after his death, laid into the floor of an abandoned villa in the south of Tuscany. Venus looking lost and mortal between cracked paint and chipping walls, like the way you hide between the dusty statues of the dead statesmen and fading portraits long after the museum closes, just you with only history to hold. You want to believe in love as past-tense, like you've lost faith in present participles and the fact that art is still being made, and people are running barefoot into future conjugations together. Don't come back to land, Venus. Vanessa. I won't be here waiting with a towel or an art critic or a spaceship. But maybe, just make a little room for me on your shell under the sun, atop steady waves or Florentine rooftops. Throw the map overboard. Let's forget the shore. And Michelangelo and the rest of them will smile as they see us off.
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The  Kristeille  Bra : And Other Pathways To   -  ( Disaster ! ) Polarities :    so smartly empowdered And,  petitely enslaved - Potentialities ? - In extremis, I'm afraid. But if thus were so, then ... (Even thinly veilled) ; Let us duly consider : Are our appetites (fe\male) In actuality and fact umm, Needlessly Manichean; The torments of noisy Siblings ? Why, after all I ask, only two - Don't You ? Alas, To the Medici Roundly go the Battle and the day !        (And sublimity) (Or so the legend goes ...... ) For those who favour such Palantines, (and gravity) a throne. For  : Pure symetry confounds my interest - hnn.us/articles/7202.html James R. Morse NYC  2012. All Rights Reserved.
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Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 2:32 PM UTC
Tete :V: Tete
Up the hills, past villas, small groves and arbors. And by the Duomo, which, I swear, moved into our path no matter where we went. The fifteenth century refuses to yield. That giant rival, Milan, now resembles Hartford: large and gaunt. Rome, thief of the renaissance, remembers Mussolini and Berlusconi more than Leo X, who yet lives in Florence, returned to his Medici home. Florence is the butter of civilization’s milk; nourishment of the flesh churned by hand. The art, the food, the social structure, even the soccer sated in turned, sweet cream. Fresh oil, fresh wine. Old recipes. The bread remains salt free. The tripe looks ancient. The streets forever too narrow.
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Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 7:37 AM UTC
Wistful for Florence
Strong Powerful Delicate Ever evolving Creative and artistic So Soulful Stayed by the Duomo David and The Medici Easy to love Forever in my heart She is Italy for me Luckily have met her sister cities Until we meet again Ciao, Bella. Dolce Vita and Domani Always You gave me the gift of friends for life Milioni di grazie C@rainbowchaser2021
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Jul 30, 2021
Jul 30, 2021 at 2:25 PM UTC
Firenze (Florence)
The pay scale for poets is bleak indeed. I could use a wealthy benefactor. Where are you, Lorenzo? Even the Muse needs to be fed occasionally. - mce
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Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 9:50 AM UTC
Paging Mr. de Medici...
It is we who are fleeting gone before too long and beauty remains. Imagining Venice without the water. Trudging through the empty ways as the wave of days wash over me where once I was the sea vast if vast it be was the thing known as humanity which was another sea that washed over me. The eye of time takes time to blink and in that time or the time it took books were burned the world being blind turned away and the wave of days washed over me in another time on another sea. beauty remains I scrub up well not too good but good enough which is not enough to boast about but I do In Venice where glass is blown and vases made for the tourist trade an ill wind has thrown the city into deep despair Medici doesn't care about the canals being no longer there beauty remains in the beholding eye until that too must die but beauty remains.
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Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 5:29 AM UTC
Leonardo's not a turtle.
Six letters spell out my secret self: T-he O-ther B-eing I- A-m S-ometimes - TOBIAS I am the baby caressed at my mother’s breast. A child learning sums, playing with my chums at football scoring goals and soaring to the heights of fame. At times, a growing boy entranced in nature’s joy. Now and then I paint for the family Medici or become a Saint like Francis of Assisi chatting with the birds. Some days I walk in groves with Plato and learn to talk the simplicities of Cato and for a while am wise. Most days though I hardly show his side. So few can know The Other Being I Am Sometimes. TOBIAS
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Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 2:27 AM UTC
Alter Ego
If we restructured the butchers would want a bigger slice of the pie, greed is nothing new either under the sun or the blue steel of a gun. in for a penny, infrastructure if any has failed and eternity sailed in the Titanic. supposing being sick of the same old things always waiting and wondering , what is it that tomorrow brings to a yesterday but the slings and other **** Shakespeare mentions. supposing Medici could teach me to float in Venice, no boat? no chance. There's only so many slices and so they restructure the prices to cut out the wheat from the chaff and who decides wherein greed resides? not the pauper or maybe he's one with the gravy, the train rumbles on the rich ***** about the poor and the poor ponder on inequality I wander through this scenery ******* it in and unsign my autograph on these pages of sin. It was Wednesday in a suitcase in case you were wondering, unpacked and folded away. I tried to remember the year but the year is now and it's here and how has it altered my views? I tread warily past the one who will betray me. always being friendly also has a price.
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Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 12:24 AM UTC
Unsigning an autograph
Ha ha! How ironic is this conception? A bottle, filled left in the oubliette that you and I fill! Perhaps it's a cruel joke, or maybe compassion To let us drown our sorrows in a doldrum like fashion. Hell, my friend, it surely awaits, so let's take our swigs And numb ourselves from our unmerciful fates. You know, this situation as I drink gets funnier and funnier... I'd bet right now, de' Medici herself stands above in the Louvre, That crafty witch! Would you like some more of this Cognac before the dungeon master Comes back? One more joie de vivre until the chemistry fades? What does it matter if it isn't ours? Our final hours will be forgotten, and between you and me, This will start the after party early. A votre sante! To the nobodies!
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Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 3:14 PM UTC
Drinks In The Dungeon