Poetry by Simon Parker
CARAVAGGIO’S WOMEN

In the queue for Caravaggio
flesh is made marmoreal
a woman in a white dress
our baroque beacon
who should guide us
to a wedding feast where
gods are drunk and fallen
angels are slurring beneath
their sticky wings, not
a darkened room where
a severed head hangs, stands
statuesque, singed blonde hair
held in unmoving shape
monolithic features paint primed
strawberry lips drawing
the light from distraction
her shoulders have dismissed
fine fabric for polished skin
to rise mountainous and proud
sly glances follow her
regal rise on the stone steps
to enter the realm
of darkened attention
where two of her sisters
are framed for hungry gaze
emancipated eyes glisten
in the gloom of art’s staging
Ursula   Salomé   Her
mastering the shadows

Simon Parker is a London-based writer, performer, and teacher. He is an associate artist of Vocal Point Theatre and runs creative writing and reading groups for the homeless and socially excluded at the 240 Project. Recently, his poems have appeared in MockingHeart Review, Prosetrics, The Crank, Cathexis NW, The Ekphrastic Review, and The Pomegranate London.

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