*Featured Image courtesy of Eric Ward on Unsplash*
This week, we have some lovely poems by Joe Bisicchia. They may be short, but they pack an emotional punch. Enjoy!
Venus de Milo
Hold me.
Don’t be a stone heart.
Be real.
That simple.
That plain.
Hold me.
Even if just with your eyes.
Canvas
My father’s hands were calloused from his plastering tool, his hold on his trowel, his carrying of mortar board before he would be lost in a cloud, lost in a Renoir brush, as weather patterns are wont to do. He always said see art in all the blank space. My father, an immigrant, had labored so many facades, long halls and tall vestibules with plaster of Paris, smoothing over surface of every wall to get me through school. Illiterate, yet, the greatest artist of them all. And, because of him, I indeed learned. Introduced me to Matisse while at college outside Philadelphia up against the wall on a staircase in a small museum. Monet was there, along with Cézanne, Picasso, Rousseau, Van Gogh. My father, ever influential, had introduced me to them all.
Joe Bisicchia writes of our shared dynamic. An Honorable Mention recipient for the Fernando Rielo XXXII World Prize for Mystical Poetry, he has written four published collections of poetry. He also has composed hundreds of individual works that have been published in over one hundred publications. To see more of his work, visit widewide.world.
