Poets logo

Turning Lead to Mr. Gold

by Andrilisa Read-Iglesias Lopes about a year ago in surreal poetry · updated 9 months ago
Report Story

The Story of An Alchemist with a King Midas Complex

Sing to me of the man, Muse

whose tale I’ve never told

He’s the art that lives inside of me

I call him Mr. Gold.

My jeweler father's workplace was always so cold.

It started in the forbidden room where he’d hammer and fire and pour in molds

The melted metal, real actual melted gold.

And there were tools of all sorts for me

To create, mold and pretend to make my own gold.

I became obsessed with the idea of making gold.

I was used to seeing beauty created with gold.

Elaborate chains and rings galore.

So I yearned to create even more.

But my hands were too small to carry the gold.

And so I gravitated to art.

Art was the start.

Art was the beginning. It was the vehicle. It was the doorway to making gold. Hello Mr. Gold.

And create I did.

With a pencil I did.

With paint I did.

With everything I could get my hands on…all I did was create.

I wanted to make gold. Be gold. I became obsessed with Mr. Gold.

Because he could turn it all to gold.

To be like Midas himself.

The king whose touch turned all to gold.

If he could see, hear, feel, breathe just like I could see, hear, feel and breathe

Then I too could have his touch.

An alchemist is what I really longed to become.

Because me and the pencil were already one.

Lead to gold. Boom. Done.

So I drew. And I grew.

Smudged. Splattered. Swiped. Sanded

Went bolder. Bigger. Darker. Wider.

Tried Watercolor. Paint. Crayons. Marker.

I started to see the world in every tone.

Jumping in an out of the zone.

The textures, the shadows, the highlights, the contrast.

The slightest glimmer of light reflecting against the moist nose of the cat.

On Command, my right hand, made things so grand.

I realized after decades of creating, that I had achieved my goal.

Everywhere around me, all the things I made… they are all gold.

Not literal gold, but yea it’s gold.

Why is it gold?

Because it breaks all molds!

Because for thousands it’s sold!

Because all stare in awe just like gold!

All these years I thought I’d been trolled

And that I’d never sit on my throne.

But behold.

I did it.

I turned my art into gold. I am now one with Mr. Gold.

surreal poetry

About the author

Andrilisa Read-Iglesias Lopes

Just an artist painting dreams with words...

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.