Body Paint 2

Paint me!
I found your box of body paints
And I am determined to make myself
Your whole history of Art.
So just take this naked canvas
And paint me!

Cave painting:
Dark interior lit by tallow tapers.
See the ochre and charcoal figures
Lively across rough surfaces,
In pursuit of a great aurochs.
But wait –
The figures, you can see from their shape,
Are women, lithe, elemental.
The aurochs too is a fecund female,
The totem of their clan
Whom they celebrate on their wall.
So I am begging you –
Paint my cave!
Roman times:
See these busts of marble –
We have a false eye upon them
If we believe them cold and serene;
For once they leapt with colour –
Empress-purple, bands of red.
See those faces on the walls
By Romanesque tombs.
Their mournful eyes reproaching us;
See the matriarchs and maidens thoughtful;
Now! Figure them rouged, lively
Wickedly debauched, and
Paint my marble bust!
Oh, those middle ages:
Growing out of austere scenes
Of enthroned figures,
Our field of vision takes in lapis lazuli,
Seeded with pearls like virgin’s nipples,
And golden fleurs de lys like pouting vulvas.
Paint me in heraldic madness –
Gules, argent, sable, or, and azure,
Tattered-mantled, crested,
With seahorses for supporters,
Wrapped about with my lady’s favour.
I’ll be your achievement,
So paint me!
Renaissance:
Recapture, just for now, my perspective!
See how I stretch out one arm so,
Another here – see where my fingers reach.
Make me smile,
And I will be your Gioconda;
So paint me, lady!
Japan:
Make each thought and movement one!
With a brush of inky black trace
The longest continuous line of my body.
Or consider Ukiyoe, and see
The geisha’s long, lovely neck –
Her shoulders pale in décolletage.
Paint me! Paint me!
See Fragonard:
And see me on a swing,
Showing my frivolous petticoats and stockings…
Paint me, and push my swing!
Romantic:
Paint me larger than life
I have more canvas than you could ever need!
I could give you a room, a hall to hang me in;
And you, like Jacques-Louis David painting Napoleon,
Will make me into Empress Josephine,
And I shall ride triumphantly
Over your Alps.
So don’t just stand there, brush in hand,
Waiting for inspiration,
Just paint me!
Van Gogh:
See! See! Yellow and dynamic!
Everything is movement, wind in wheat,
Trees tossing…
Oh, hear the demon-voices in your ear
(And do not silence them with a knife!).
Listen! Listen!
The demon-voices tell you –
“Paint this woman, paint her!”
Action:
See me spreadeagled here,
Letting you dribble paint
In gouts of purple, brown, and yellow,
Splishing, splashing, throwing, dashing,
Here, here, and (oh yes!) here –
That’s action-painting me, lover!
Op Art:
This is your chance to paint roundels
Like the ones on French planes,
Round and round my nipples
Or throw that brush away and use your tongue
Do those roundels on my clitoris;
Trace flowers and roundels, yes!
Paint me in pure spit!
Psychedelia:
Rainbow-dreaming flower child,
Tune me in, turn me on (Oh yes!),
And paint me, paint me, paint me!
Roy Liechtenstein:
Wham! Wham!
Oh thank you, thank you ma’am!
Keep painting me!

And when the history is completed,
And there is just you painting me here
(And here! And – oh yes – here!),
Then – deface me!
Take your broadest brush and wipe all of it away.
Adorn me now with sheer madness, lunacy,
Moons and suns, galaxies and nebulae,
Shifting alien landscapes.
Or cover me with wild, dancing sigils,
Weird runes, magic letters in eldritch scripts,
Unknown alphabets, obscene words,
Revolutionary slogans, subversive manifestos,
Day-glo graffiti tags, swirling abstracts,
Manic, undulating colours.
I say yes! I say yes! Paint me!
Paint me until I am covered head to foot,
Paint me until my skin can’t breathe,
Paint me to a standstill,
Paint me until I drop
Paint me!
Paint ME!