The Dream (The Bed) Frida Kahlo (fair use)
a skin full of sorrow begs not for tomorrow in long lace anymore than
the skeleton sitting bedside sick, smoking a cigarelish
fiendish smile waiting to bite hello, welcome to another day
where fruit will smash itself open by whose teeth?
gentleman that I am, I offer you first choice -
white or black, my Queen?
but are you of the peasants only in spirit dreams?
playing not coyly, you stare boldly into the future, reversed by the mirror -
introspection is your collar for want of balm -
and I would crush you like a ring of red-throated hummingbirds
but I am too late
your hands are already stained with our collective blood
Diego & Frida-- A Print Collection of Photographs by Bernard G. Silberstein
I crush red-throated hummingbirds
the electrical impulse pregnates my madness
but first I stole their feathers before their life
bladed them open to collect their wombs
eating blood red Cara oranges and cinnamon spiced watermelons
as these fruit could only be witness
to my cries of what I never wished or wanted
it doesn't matter, madre?
stocism has no plate in passion's loving bites
it rapes bones and spits seeds
but never the wild cries of the monkeys
who mimic in their collar, I wear them only for a moment
choosing to speak of the truths which are swarming
wasps, as figs are motherless children
strangers for the warning
all rights reserved
I love you more than my own skin.
- Frida Kahlo
Susie is our host and asks us to look to Frida Kahlo's life and art for inspiration.
note: the skeleton's name is Juda, which is interesting, to me, in relation to the name itself and all it's implications, history etc. + I decided to present a conversation of sorts, between different elements and aspects of her life, her symbolism, her art and words - hence, two poems, that I believe work independently and yet compliment each other