3 Poems From Secrets Poem by Sheena Blackhall

PICASSO'S HEAD OF A WOMAN
I am the right eye of Picasso's woman
I look down always, never, never up
I never see hats, just shoes

I only know the properties of pavements
I look over cracks, tree roots, small dogs and kerbs
I see shadows, subways, cigarette stubs, gum

I do not dare look up
The artist has condemned me to be passive
Submissive. My horizon is bounded by feet
Wet matches in muddy alleys

A strange perspective, one step up from Hades
I am in love with puddles, with reflections
Strange muse, to so contort a face


THE HEART OF THE HOME
The heart of my childhood home was music
A piano, a mandolin,
A zither, guitar, harmonica
Jews harp and song

I breathed this out and in
Rhythm was deep within my family's bones
Heart of the house, it thrummed along our veins.


THE LITTLE BONSAI TREE (2)
I am a human Bonsai tree
My voice is pruned to poetry
No mighty oak or pine am I
In my small space beneath the sky
Crooked and skewered, it's kind you see
To foster anonymity