Sunday, March 4, 2012

Magpie tale # 107 The Painting


Once a week
 he went to the Art Institute
 to stare at her.
 The brushstrokes captured
 the eyes of his Isabella,
the woman of long ago
that he lost to Fernando.
He knew she would be 70 now,
not the raven haired beauty
captured before him
in the sensual values of light and dark.
A painting as large as his desire
that still burned him every calendar day.
Did she have a good life?
Did she have regret?
Did she ever think of him
in the dark silence of night
as he had of her?
He unfolded a handkerchief
on his lap,in front of the painting,
 lifted out a ring
and began to cry, as he had every week
since the painting appeared 
on the walls of this public place,
for all to see.
Once he painted it just for his eyes,
now everyone could see what he loved
and lost.


30 comments:

  1. Of course she remembers and just as often too.
    Strong pulling emotions evoked here Suz! I like them.
    rel

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    1. ah..the words of a seasoned man
      I agree.....

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  2. wow...nice that he ended up being the painter in the end...and that he share his sorrow so publically....def felt suz...nice take...

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    1. thanks Brian...oh king of love....ah...unquenched desire..can be a B...but fuels many a creative mind

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  3. She's is too much! There, on that canvas, he painted her as an object of desire, not a human being. I guess he knew that distance even back then.
    Nice job, Suz, got me thinking about this relationship.

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  4. thanks Rosaria....the ring.....an innocent mention....
    and yes, he did.....an obsession
    I think she made the right choice...but love...who knows?

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  5. Great poem. Loved reading it. Lovely crafted and full of power.

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  6. It is funny reading this, because just a few minutes ago my daughter and I were talking about one of our favorite books, The History of Love. It is told from an old man's perspective and he still thinks daily of Alma, the love he lost. I loved this Suz, and I have to tell you that I am still worrying about the phone booth man.

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    1. ah....a romantic woman....thanks you

      oh, and don't worry about the fella in the phonebooth....he's gone

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  7. Enjoyed this! there used to be a huge painting in New Haven that I would stand in front of every chance I got- and marvel at the technique! all the colors- hundreds of hours of work- thanks!

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    1. I used to stand in front of one too...Lucretia Borgia

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  8. I felt the love, the longing, the emptiness that loosing a loved one brought. Sad but nicely written sister!

    JJRod'z

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  9. Oh yes, Love and loss. We carry some of this to our graves.
    Really good writing.

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    Replies
    1. thanks Farmlady....yes we do and much more

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  10. So lovely, Suz. It must happen, the artist losing his muse to someone else!

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    Replies
    1. ah Brigid...I love that....lost muse

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  11. Love this......so tender...........
    :)

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  12. how beautifully haunting!
    great story.
    Just as he captured his love forever in that painting,
    it seems like it's also led him to be unable to let go of his grief.

    I love it!

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  13. You gave us a story with such a universal appeal, and experience that many of us have known. I was quite taken and pleasantly surprised by the ending. Succinctly and tenderly written!

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  14. Lovely Suz, loved the fact that he was the painter at the end.

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  15. Wonderful story and like all great stories it is laced with truth!

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