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Thursday, 12 July 2012

Dreams of Reality




Do you see Picasso there,
sloping off to paint the world,
to show the world the way it is?

A painter of reality
is what he's set himself to be.

I'll paint that clown,  Picasso says,
and that small horse, 
the way they are.

I'll really be a painter then.
A real one - of reality!  

He does not know
the clown is masked.
The horse looks on,
looks on askance.

The clown will not reveal himself,
the horse is kicking up -
the horse it seems,
just won't play ball.

Appearances are all 
I've got,  says Pablo to himself:
A mask, a dance - and that is it,
for life is nowt but chance.  

Picasso sees, as in a flight
of mirrors in some wizard's Hall,
a flight of visual metaphors.
Picasso has a ball.

The shapes and hues on the clown's face
he sees could be a bowl of fruit,
the jerks and jumps of little horse,
rats in a sack of jute.

Incomprehensibly he shows
the clown asleep, his eyes fast closed,
who in his sleep dreams this strange dream:
that he's Picasso painting him -
him and the little horse, of course.

His painting done, the clown's awake.
Picasso needs a second take.
He knows the man, the scene grows dark.
Saludos, he greets him then,
 Buen Día, Señor Braque!

And that is how my friends, you see,
they came to launch their rivalry.



8 comments:

A Cuban In London said...

The beauty of this poem is not just in its use of language and metaphors, but also in the fact that you've penetrated the essence of what Picasso was. And in a very few lines. Remarkable.

Greetings from London.

Brian Miller said...

very cool..imagine being able to see the world as picasso did...well you captured a bt of that here today....sometimes i would love to be in the eye of an artist...

kaykuala said...

Dave,
Dreams and Picasso saw reality in his dreams. You have very vividly brought out that realization in your poem. Many don't understand Picasso. His brilliance in abstracts is mistaken. He was one lucky master who benefited from his works during his lifetime. And you've shared that with us. Great poem!

Hank

wanderingbetweenworlds said...

absolutely amazing. you crawled inside the artist's soul and acted as translator. this REALLY moved me. amazing.

Gerry Snape said...

clever clever man picasso was and wily! and you've caught that Dave. I was happy to go to the picasso museum and la casa picasso a few weeks ago and I'm always amazed at the versatility of the man and also the way he used others...but did it often better. Not so with Braque though...I think!

Ygraine said...

I've never been a great fan of Picasso, but wow, you've helped me to see him in a new light!
From now on I'll take a closer look at his work.

Thank you for opening my eyes :)

Dave King said...

A Cuban in London
Sincere thanks. Good to know you thought this.

Regards

Brian
I have at times tried to imagine the world as he might have seen it. Bet I was miles off, though! I agree with you: would love to be there...

Hank
Yes, he was lucky to benefit during his lietime, certainly to the extent that he did. Thanks for your thoughts.

wanderingbetweenworlds
A lovely comment to have. I do thank you for it.

Gerry
I understand your thought. Braque was certainly no Picasso. He didn't have his flair or versatility, but together they did change things and give the world a new slant.

Ygraine
There were so many Picasso's, with him reinventing himself constantly. There's a lot to choose from. Thanks for the comment.

aprille said...

Smashing!
And I don't mean that what caused Braque's cubism.
Your poem is as usual a delightful flight of fancy.