I, Michelangelo, sculptor in Rome,
of my fatherís bone, am known and unknown;
reputed in good will, as well as ill,
for arrogant talons that temper stone,
cast in cognitive raiments to render
the unseen, seen; the unheard of, heard.
At birth, I redesigned my motherís womb.
Now I shape stone for Juliusí tomb.

Most do not know me, my limestone fingers,
arsenic smiles under deep knotted brows.
Some view the world as it is, I see how
it could be, a matter of subtraction;
just cut out what is not David or Moses.
Even the Earth is a stone, it poses
with mottled dreams & covenants broken,
chiseled nightmares, allegiance unspoken.

From Godís energetic hand to Adamís,
From Adamís to mine, the fresco of life,
I am bound to relate white blocks to swirls.
Copious robes, beards with abundant curls
—all set in marble; my foresight the knife,
my insight the mallet, chipping corners
of negative space to refurbish my purse,
my hand back to Godís, Creation reversed.

Copyright 2006,  Quentin Huff

Quentin Huff is an attorney, writer, visual artist, and professional tennis player who lives and works in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. His family owns and operates Huff Art Studio, an art gallery specializing in fine art, printing, and graphic design.


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