Great Lady, by Patricia Farnelli

Great Lady, by Vincent Van Gogh (Netherlands). 1882.

 great lady
 
what is not torn
is twisted—every fiber
sharp as broken wood.
 
no trace of sweet
to soothe my bitter, loosened
lock, my chiseled cheek;
 
broken flute, mother of mud,
my hair is stiff--
breasts pull my frame
 
like mottled pears,
girl swells sag to angles
in self-carving weight.
 
          I am sorrow,
          flat on vincent’s troubled sheet. his hands
 
          that zealous, fill my child's mouth
          are futile in their wheat
           as crippled crows.
 
a death cry,
keening my harlot’s hearth--
drawn erect, the pride of pathos,
matrix of the earth.

Patricia Farnelli

Patricia Farnelli worked as a staff writer/reporter for 30 years, for half a dozen newspapers. She has taught in public and private schools and community colleges; milked, fed and scraped stalls for 40 cows; grew vegetables for opera singers; and worked as a migrant farmer. Recently, she began to write poetry again.

Sorrow, by Vincent Van Gogh (Netherlands). 1882.