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by James Shammas (Age: 44)
copyright 05-25-2005


Age Rating: 10 to 127

 
It was a servant, eyes meek, that could see,
Who took the name of Michaelangelo,
Chipping and chiseling his prisoners free,
Moving marble to tears that shine and flow,
While Dante, using terza rima rhyme,
Shook the world from a pen-- the Trinity:
Inferno, Purgatory, Paradise--
Finding finite forms in infinity.
Look close too, at Cezanne, his bristled brush
Sparking the divine in his canvas so white,
Forming forms within forms and colors that push
One's eager eye to its highest height...

Seems that the instrument moves him
Who finds in himself the Form within.




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06-18-2005 Jean George    

I loved this poem and several of your lines are outstanding. As David stated, "Chipping and chiseling his prisoners free' is imagery at its best, but "moved marble to tears" and the best of them, "Shook the world with his pen", that is one powerful image. And then at the end you seem to be telling me that ,so to speak,I am my own canvas, marble block, or blank paper and pen to create myself as I see fit.. This is a very good and provocative poem, James...I don't know how I missed it earlier!
05-27-2005 David Pekrul    

My favourite line:
"Chipping and chiseling his prisoners free",

Art in all its forms is good and each person approaches it in different manners and each with a unique interpretation.
05-26-2005 Anthony Lane Stahlhut    

Each one is a treasure chest, we need only find the way to open the chest, to see what is inside! Good write! Anthony
Visitor Reads: 391
Total Reads: 401
Comments: 3

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