Sistine ChapelA Poem by Onoma
I, Michelangelo was fair game amongst human animalia...
until I latched upon the vault of Heaven. In light of total Absorption...I betook to throngs of glory-- I became a lidless eye, trillion-handed. All I beheld for four years unblinkingly, was undrunk paint from plaster drip off a human form, stretching and stretching to macrocosmic proportion. It's as if I were painting through a black hole, poised upon the whitest of emergence. As it were, upon that ceiling prior to brushstroke there's only the black of unrealized vision...ravenous blackbirds at their feeder--then suddenly, the palms of angels cup them...that they may eat out of them. I could hear my name glide through: past/present/future... for I peopled a Heaven, a Hell's dynamic tension--it was given that I take it upon myself. That eyes shall look above and know man is more than man, woman is more than woman...it was given that I situate Us. Feature the unending moment of creation as chaos harmonizes upon this ceiling. Color is so strange...it's immediately superior to my most creative application--I become the color I apply, as the outlines of the forms they take become beautiful illusions. Naturally I worship the outlines of these forms, but neighboring forms bleed-in so quickly I experience an ecstatic union...countless times a day the paintbrush falls from my hand. To that which I've supposed likeness...likeness I paint--I give you suspended animation, the non local no time of NOW! Rome was built in a day--I shrunk it down to an Adam...then split him!!! Konstantinos Mark
© 2013 Onoma |
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Added on December 30, 2013 Last Updated on December 30, 2013 Author
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