(poems go here)

Obra Maestra

He called onto the dirt, made the soil reflective

The final ounce of life now materializing

And the soil became flesh, mixing molecules into breath

Finishing the masterpiece, as dirt became I

A sculpture who dared to share the image of divinity

Touching hands with mortality, creating humanity

Royalty engaging with peasantry, HE, branded us with majesty

And despite desperate modifications, nothing can disfigure

Yet we cause hairline fractures that evolve into fissures

To devour and capture… it was I

Who took divinity in my hands and called it “ugly”

The temple of my body vandalized by lies

And lustful graffiti, spray-painted fragments over shallow eyes

The face that mimicked sacredness wore a disguise

Like an air-tight plastic bag, suffocating

Cutting away till the skin is raw

But no incision can penetrate the GOD-gene

Frantically ripping away every fiber of holiness

I spewed virus stricken criticism at the face of GOD

Splatter-painting his self portrait, spilling ink on the canvas

Yet I cannot scratch or sketch the etch of a signature

I am forever His

Turning my scars into eyes that seek only HIM

One of His creations, carrier of his breath

Structure of the Architect, Sculpture and an Artifact

Resembling Providence

Through love HE finished…me

Re-painting my skies with beautiful tabula rasa

Taking my rightful spot on the canvas

As a personification of the obra maestra