The Blasphemy of Frida

Speak not of who I married.

Talented, my own right.

Imitation grand

And flattering

But tonight

Step back

Forget what Frida would like.

If that’s blasphemy

Then let it be.

After all, who do you think had to die

The day Frida found life?

Be present,

Be alive.

If I remain sleeping

Who rises to fight?

Small wonder,

Crossing into insanity

Imprisoned but able to fly

Critics and plain old apathy

It’s hard to look at her straight in the eyes

The lady

The strange one with nothing but time.

Countless skulls now painted in tribute

She has her place in history

The lady, she has her name.

It’s time, now let Frida rest

It’s your time now

You are what remains.

Stake claim,

Move beyond


She would have wanted it this way.

A time when little daughters

Walked bold and made their own way.

Generations from now

Her dream, dear

Was not a moment of fame.

It was legacy born of a day

Who would have faulted a broken girl

Had she chose to stay hidden away?

Before you give your voice away

Or bow to self imposed shame

Consider for a moment

This was yours

Her legacy

It’s your day,

when Frida remembers your name


Estela Caballero

Escrito para mi hija, sobrinas, hermanas, mama, primas, abuelas amigas y las que todavia no nacen.

If you want to know more, I’ve succeeded!

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