If you don’t know, the Museo Nacional del Prado, located in Madrid, Spain, is a three-story museum that houses some of the finest European art. I, with my lack of navigation skills, found myself lost in the maze of halls within this museum. On the bright side, a poem (below) came from this experience!
As I try to find my way through El Prado
I think, there are worst places
to be lost in, like a forest
or a person. I think people are a lot
like art. It’s easy to miss parts, to misunderstand
and see only what you want
to see – the soft neck of a man
the veins rippling like little streams
through the garden of his body. It’s easy
to lose yourself in someone’s body.
There are still worst places
to be lost in. Have you ever been
lost in yourself, in the blemished
skin and mind,
in the way you can always find something
to despise? As I circle around the corridors
filled with the finest paintings, I realize
even art is imperfect. You can’t paint
the way ripened fruit smells, or the way Eve felt
when she first laid eyes on Adam.
You can’t paint the way limbs
move like colors, the way a lover’s voice climbs
above the night, when your thoughts begin
creeping about like a serpent, when you
wonder how you will ever
find your way out.
© 2019, Gabby Triana
Full disclosure: this is a first draft that I copied straight from the journal I wrote in while lost in the museum. I wanted to share the organic writing that occurred during this crazy experience. Oh, and don’t worry, I ended up finding my way out.
Looking to write a poem, but suffering from writer’s block? Check out my ekphrastic poem prompt!