Poem: Self-Portrait

[brunsvigia]

SELF-PORTRAIT

Were I to use a brush
and like Van Gogh
speak all my burning heart
on canvas,

I would not have a face
but mere impressions of myself:
Splashed here and there
dark hues of green
for youthful self-conceit,
impatience and disdain.
Touch shades of yellow
that which marked
my childish cowardice
and dab deep russet tones for
great ambitions unfulfilled.

Each stroke, each stain a
painful revelation;

I am exposed...

Red paints my passion and my zest for life;
dark hues in broader strokes
burn furiously for deep discord as
filial bonds collapsed
and I, forever branded by
such guilt for errant ways
regressed to angry wail...

grey my insecurities,
self-doubt,
self-loathe...

Still, this latent image would
not be complete:

I would the clouds embody hope,
the sky my dreams,
the stars my victory.

And though this painting
may evoke revulsion
or admiration
or both:

that is me...

**

bruny

comments okay.

[JAS Carter]

On Thu, 22 Jun 2000 21:21:14 +0200, in alt.arts.poetry.comments
"brunsvigia" <vanh...@yahoo.com> spake thus:

>SELF-PORTRAIT
>
>Were I to use a brush
>and like Van Gogh
>speak all my burning heart
>on canvas,

Which part of Van Gogh's Irises is his burning heart?

Julie Carter
--
http://www.everypoet.com/poetry/general/ep_jasc.htm

"There is nothing as vindictive as a confused flying monkey." Gary Gamble