The Spanish artist, Francisco Goya, painted a woman (most likely the Duchess of Alba) in the nude. When the authorities objected, so I’ve heard, he then painted the portrait with her in a dress. Here’s my take on it.
The Maja, in clothing or nude,
Should never be thought of as lewd.
Thinking Goya’s a voyeur
In need of a lawyer
Is so crude it should not be pursued.
Images courtesy of Wikipedia Commons.
A WRITER’S PLIGHT (In 6 connected limericks)
Dear comrades, my troubles I’m spillin’
My concerns about writin’ a villain,
I’m not at all certain–
‘Stead o’ hurtin’ he’s flirtin’
With the heroine, cooin’ and billin.’
It’s the hero the heroine’s desiring
How she flutters her lashes, admiring,
But the villain has mastered
His kill skills, the bastard,
And she weeps as the hero’s expiring.
But aha! hero’s not really dead,
His medal took the bullet instead.
For vengeance he’s heading
While the villain is sweating,
Expecting he won’t die in bed.
Between his mean eyes comes the lead,
And all life from the villain is bled.
His corpse left to rot
On that cracked parking lot,
While the hero and heroine wed.
His ending is fitting but sad,
The villain’s not really that bad,
But behold, resurrection,
In the chapter’s next section,
He’s reformed! Shed a tear. Oh, I’m glad!
Oh really? You want to hear more, gee,
I hope that the plot’s not a bore, gee,
That’s not to be born
So I’ll try adding porn,
And have it all end with an orgy!
— Eve DC
My new I-phone has a two-tone cover, and the ‘couple-color’ reminded me of a poem titled Pied Beauty, written in 1877 by G. M. Hopkins. It’s a good idea to Google the old poem and read it first. Here is my parody version of 2014.
Glory be to Jobs for Apple things –
For I-phone Six in couple-colour case;
For I-pad Air, a wafer thin delight
For Words with Friends, a game that really zings;
For I-Mac pro that sits in pride of place;
For all the icons Apple does so right.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is jiggled, jaggled, (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, vibrate; dazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose genius is past change:
Here’s a copy of a poem that’s on the author page of Peril, Passion, Peru. In case you missed it….
SONG OF THE LOVESICK SIREN
I love you, I love you, I love you so madly,
If I tried to tell you I’d do it so badly.
I love you for will be, for was and for is,
If I were a soda, I’d give you my fizz.
I love how you think and I love how you feel,
I love you for promise, I love you for real.
I love you for touching, I find you enticing,
If I were a cupcake, you’d lick off my icing.
I love you for dreaming, for taking and giving,
I love what you put into warm-blooded living.
I love you completely, I’m out of control.
If I were a doughnut, I’d give you my whole.