Michelangelo's Bastard

By: Esme Stone

i see what i yearn to be,

chisel away the layers of marble.

chip at my cheeks and chest,

the statue hidden inside this ugly block,

i am michelangelo’s bastard,

his unbidden fledgeling.

i hack my way out,

roughly axing at whatever my blade can contact.

i can emerge from the stone,

prospero’s ariel,

when and though i entered a daphne.

michelangelo’s bastard,

his messiest work,

sandpaper and obtrusiveness,

his spawn, seafoam, mocked ‘hermaphrodite’.

athena from zeus’ skull came fully-formed, fully-fledged. i hurled myself against the cranium,

the slab that is me bashing, brick onslaught,

crashing through the gates of heaven,

tripping over the barbed-wire fence into hell.

Rationale: i wrote this piece late at night spurred just by the thought of a marble block. we all want to have some sort of say in how we turn out as a human being, right? i guess that's what fueled this poem, the desire to shape who i want to be and to have a say in my future. it applies to everyone differently, see yourself in this as much as you want. there's no definitive correct answer for what this should mean to you. :)