The Goddess Cracked


It was just
Last fall,
That we like
A group of bees
Were conversing
On the meaning
Of things
From Vonnegut at Breakfast,
To the Oedipus Complex at lunch.
We tried to imagine
Ourselves swinging
From pointed stars.

But when I cracked
And forgot my glue,
The Madonna that you
Made, was made of limestone.
Rain filled with ill elements corroded
Your image of me.

You under that fluorescent temple,

That commercial heaven of tasty cream,
Were left in a time warp with the rest
Of the Star Trek crew.
You tried to catch my stained glass wings
With you net,
But I have had a metamorphosis
With small yellow round pills.
I crawl back into fuzzy body of a child.

You tried to make me into Botticellis' Birth of Venus,
With girls bringing richly decorated garments,
 But I am just waves crashing myself.

So like a Nazi plane,
With my stinger,
I dive at my innocent victims.
They lie like jig –saw puzzle
Upon the muddy ground.



“Color theory is very important to me for it affects the physiological as well as the psychological perceptions of the viewer.”

Elizabeth Sheehan is a visual artist and poet based in the North Shore area of Massachusetts.  She has exhibited in many exhibitions, open studios, and benefits.  Elizabeth draws inspiration from Fauve painters and German expressionists, as well as her favorites Paul Klee and Marc Chagall.

​Copyright © 2010-2020 Elizabeth Sheehan. All rights reserved.