The Self Portrait

DO we change when we love someone more than ourselves?

I wonder whether Rembrandt wept, 

when he discovered his art lied; 

when colours he so dearly kept

on canvases that never died, 

eventually betrayed him... 

A courtisane his brush had been,

she worked, and he got paid; 

He sold her beauty to the world, 

his worries seemed to fade. 

But what of the reminding thought, 

how long could he ignore 

the nudes and heroes patrons bought 

might one day sell no more? 

So he would paint his face as well, 

countless reflections, each time someone else! 

Once as a saint or an angel that fell, 

once as a poet or his simple old self. 

He spent half his life, as half of his wits 

Staring at guilded mirrors, 

Until the glass broke him down to tiny bits, 

"Rembrandt, do forgive us..." 

Back home I attempted to do the same 

and wondered what I would see, 

I took out my colours, canvas and brush 

and confident painted what I called "me" 

Still I caught myself lying; 

by my brush's last swirl 

the face looking back 

was a whole other girl, 

she stared and she judged and she looked just like me

 I said "this is a stranger" 

and she seemed to agree. 

Then I knew what to do, 

I had forgotten that I 

have since long been that person 

that I loved deep inside, 

I imagined his presence in my own dusky room,

and I started besmirching the portrait with doom, 

the smudges and splashes dripped down the strange face, 

and although now imperfect, 

this was my own face...

(And if only I could tell him

 if only I could just show

the reason I love him

is why he can never know...)

Reviews

[Antoñyo]

Interesting, for me, this passionate ride along parallels of truth and illusion, perception and self discovery....

Thanks for the share

[Antonio Valentino]

i simply cannot stop looking at this gorgeous picture.. its mesmerizing

Oh Arianna, i understand, i really do

i want to be painted in a picture, just like this, with someone very special to me

by someone, if there is such a person, who knows the true me.. probably better than i do

between the picture and the poem, this is just so magically extraordinary!

i just wish someone knew my, true colors..

and knew how to turn them into my spirit

a favorite of favorites!

:))

[.:Arianna:.]

Thank you dearly for your kind words...they mean a lot to me as you already know... Maybe you should try and paint yourself it could be an insightful experience!

[Antonio Valentino]

if i was an artist like you i would..

the sefl portrait of me below is all i could come up with:

:))))))))))

thats a picture of me reading one of your poems