The Blasphemy of Frida

Speak not of who I married.

Talented,

In my own right.

Imitation grand

So flattering

Begin tonight

Step back

Forget what Frida likes

Blasphemy?

Let it be.

After all,

Who do you think had to die

The day

The known 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

Let them be,

This is your time

Let Frida rest

Names, remains

Stake claim,

Ignore the games

Dear Frida, dreamed this way.

A time when little daughters

Walked bold and fought the crimes

That happen

Time and time

The prize was not 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

–fin–

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!

http://www.pbs.org/weta/fridakahlo/worksofart/monkey.html

http://www.theartstory.org/artist-kahlo-frida.htm

The bio and chisme sobre http://www.biography.com/people/frida-kahlo-9359496