The Monday Poem: dogs by Pablo Picasso

This week’s poem is Picasso’s dogs. I hope it inspires you 🙂

dogs

by Pablo Picasso

dogs eat at the night
buried in the yard
they chase the moon in a pack
the white of their teeth
compared to stars

the windows close against them
iron bars in transparency

life closes against them

the morning will crush them to dust
with only the wind left
to stir them up


Born: 25 October 1881, Málaga, Spain
Died: 8 April 1973, Mougins, France
On view: Museum of Modern Art, Art Institute of Chicago
Full name: Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz y Picasso
Everything you can imagine is real.
Art is a lie that makes us realize truth.
Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.
-info from Wikipedia


Picasso is most well-known for his visual art, particularly The Weeping Woman, Guernica, The Old Guitarist and Chicago Picasso.

The Monday Poem – 10 november xxxv by Pablo Picasso

iuyqtex0.jpeg!Portrait

This week’s poem is Picasso’s 10 november xxxv. I hope you enjoy it!

Pablo Picasso (25 October 1881 – 8 April 1973) was a Spanish painter, sculptor, printmaker, ceramicist, stage designer, poet and playwright who spent most of his adult life in France. Regarded as one of the most influential artists of the 20th century, he is known for co-founding the Cubist movement, the invention of constructed sculpture, the co-invention of collage, and for the wide variety of styles that he helped develop and explore.Wikipedia

10 november XXXV
on the dining room table above a colossal carpet color of dry blood the ashtray
packed with butt-ends looked just like a little death’s head that stuck out its tongue at
me today this very night november tenth a quarter after ten by now which with three
more should make eleven by the clock which then will strike the hour

 

The Monday Poem: 17 august XXXV by Pablo Picasso

This week’s poem is Spanish artist Picasso’s 17 august XXXV.

17 august XXXV
a cup of coffee courts the aroma everlasting
that corrupts the wing shaking a harmonium
caressing her timid white flesh as
kisses breeze through the window
fill the room with goldfinch words fluttering
in the ear soundless and singing
and laughing crazy trills through his veins
pablo-picasso-photo

 


I hope it inspired you 🙂