On Picasso’s Imaginary Self-Portrait
Is it conceit or self-knowledge
that makes you paint yourself
in the ruffed collar
of Shakespeare
or a clown?
Satyr, young at heart,
your merry countenance
masks darker moods and behaviors,
the bright pigments
hiding a more somber undercoat.
Picasso,
your children
and your mistresses
might paint you as master:
stern, egotistical,
but always with the backlit inspiration
of genius.
Yet, old goat,
you paint yourself a clown.
Reblog For dVerse Poets: Clown
Good take on the prompt.
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I love Picasso so much! I saw an exhibit of his stuff in London once!
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I actually have this serigraph. When I sold my house and ran away from home to be a writer, I decided I might as well invest in art as something that was just numbers on paper, so I bought a few really good paintings. This is one of the ones I never parted with.
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Wow! That’s awesome!
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A brilliant poem! A stroke of genius in it too, especially the final line.
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Thanks, Ingrid…
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Love this pondering, Judy.
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