Poetry

A tribute to Frida Kahlo

Photo by adrian alva on Unsplash

The edifice stands solidly,
a deep azure blue,
thus it was named La Casa Azul.
Behind its walls lie whispers,
of the life that Frida knew.

Frida painted fearlessly,
all there was to tell:
Her watermelon bifurcated,
cut sharply into two,
much like Frida’s body,
solitary too.

In yet another painting,
tears flow streaming down,
her corseted back wracked in agony,
whole body rife with pain.

Impaled by a street car pole,
her life forever changed.
Frida would be childless;
the pole cut through her womb.
But she loved Diego fierce fully,
twice he was her groom.

The dove and the frog,
forever side by side.
Frida painted suffering,
as only she could tell.

I admire you, Frida,
you told your story well.

La Casa Azul was originally published in ILLUMINATION on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
http://dlvr.it/Rkf9xG

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