Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Behind Bosch

                                                   Hieronymus Bosch



How I'd love to enter in your mind,
And get your motives straight,
Hieronymus Bosch, the mystery-man,
Whose pictures we contemplate!
Some think he painted the pangs of Hell
To warn folk against sin,
To show the dreadful consequences
If we let the Devil in.
They think he was good and holy;
They think that, among his goals,
Was the desire to educate
Evil men and save their souls.
Others think, and I'm in tune with this,
That he got a terrific kick
Out of painting the wildly wierd,
Scenes that were lewd and sick.
What better way to indulge oneself
In the gruesome and obscene
Than to paint as a dreadful warning,
A sign to the unclean?
'I show you these sights for your own good'.....
I can hear him saying it now!
'This is your future existence
With the Devil in Hell, I vow!' !
He'd have licked his lips as he said it,
A passionate light in his eyes,
And the peasants to whom he was speaking
Would have thought him wondrous wise.
Today he'd have turned to pornography;
He'd have been on the internet
Swapping repulsive photographs
With other sick minds, I bet.
But I really cannot enter
In a fifteenth century mind,
So do forgive me, Heironymus,
If I'm being a bit unkind.


Have you ever noticed, when a visitor's expected,
Your normally neat and tidy home suddenly looks neglected?
There! Around the handles! Surely that's a smudge!
And over there I see a stain that nothing's going to budge!
Why didn't I buy new cushions? Why didn't I clear the drawers?
Why didn't I throw out that old mat and polish all the floors?
Those plain white cups and saucers suddenly look too plain.
Oh no! Behind the standard lamp! Not another stain!
It seems I'm normally half-blind, deluding myself as well.
I thought my home was Heaven! Now I find that it's just Hell!
I'm trying to shrug my shoulders and pretend that it's all right.
'They must take me as they find me. I will not get uptight!
I won't be judged by my stupid house, but by my cheerful ways.
In any case they're only here for a certain number of days.
And once they're gone I can return to my previous attitude.'
Oh no! I'd almost forgotten! I've got to give them FOOD!


Roger Owen Green said...

Both of your poems are right on - it's not just Bosch but other painters and writers who seemed to wallow in the mire they claim to hate.
Please don't look at our living room...
ROG, ABC Wednesday team

mrsnesbitt said...

Loved this - my home right now is a bomb site! lol!
Denise ABC Team

Wanda said...

I like a clean house to a fault... my husband says if he gets up in the night to go to the bathroom, I'll make the bed. ((not really))but I like an organization in the home. Comfort, yes....but things in their place. EXCEPT when the grandboys come to sleepover..then it whatever goes!!! HaHa

The Poet said...

Loved both your poems. The image for the first one kind of creeps me out...there's a lot of freakishness going on!

My wife is a total neat freak and would have a hissy fit followed by a complete meltdown if our home looked like the second one (lol)

My "B" -
Blissful Memories

Live2cherish said...

Being a cleanliness freak i detest the untidiness anywhere close to me. I am just laughing reading your second poem. :)Glad i am not the only one, who thinks about the old cushions.

PS: the word verification is Whineyb: does it mean be more whiney???

photowannabe said...

Creepy image but terrific poem. I think I'll stay away from his artistry.

Francisca said...

A very interesting pick for B. I think you are on to something, that often people use art (or dramatic soap box speeches) to deflect their own warped minds. I've heard stories of a head of a Children's Society chapter keeping a child in a closet, for instance. And how about all those evangelists caught with a mistress. Creepy stuff.

I've had interesting discussions with friends about whether there is something hypocritical when you clean your house for guests. I say no, it is to honor them. I like things organized, but I long ago gave up being a perfectionist. I have better things to do. LOL!

Two brilliant poems... again.