/creative desert flowers
exhibit in rooms
their indecent egocentric
trendy neon lights
covering walls
once bare of all electric blue intent
where social laughter echoes
then dies
so many heels and hands
steps and gestures
that never meet
modern concepts
of playful vacuity
of risk-free provocation
provide for a moment
of collective illusion
that panta rhei
whereas the only (real) change
is deterioration
still you want to take place
and be there
why miss
why stay on the side
when you can play for a while
it’s not so bad after all
it’s so cool to be hot
just keep producing
to decorate common tragedy
with the personal touch
of feathers and fresh paint
brand new art/
Axilea,
This poem is an echo of the vacuity of pretence (I hope those words don't echo). As always, you tease reflection from a jaded soul. I love your work.
You paint me in my nakedness-- this line struck me as genius: "electric blue intent". I can not figure out what "panta rhei" is... oh, for a Latin dictionary! But never mind that, the atmosphere of modern artistry is painted loud and clear here... and something more... underneath those words, there's still just a desert flower with too many trimmings. That's me.
When my husband first moved here to Idaho, he thought it was drab and ugly. Used to the green, lush backdrop of the midwest, he saw no beauty. I had to point out the subtle mint greens, and the shifts in brown-- the way the sage melted into butte-strewn Snake River plains, and looked like mint velvet from a distance. Now he loves it-- revels in its wild, untamed beauty, and is shocked at the gaudy displays of folliage around the mighty Missouri River.
I think underneath it all, the richer soul, is the one who doesn't need all the fethers and paint--they're the one's that just exist for the joy of existing-- not for clapping hands and ooo's and awe's. You brought this home to me in this fine poem. --Charlie
A lovely "con-fliction" of poles/opposites/realities...
"to decorate the common tragedy with the personal touch" --
"so many heels and hands steps and gestures that never meet"
... a true revelation of the human condition, (in gallery or out).
So Ya' Wanna' Be A Teacher is a humorous revolutionary book that tells exactly what goes on in a typical American public school. E-book version is available at Kindle, at Nook and at Smashwords.
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where social laughter echoes
then dies
so many heels and hands
steps and gestures
that never meet
and the pretentions of change that is only deterioration. also liked the ironic tone of:
just keep producing
to decorate common tragedy
with the personal touch
of feathers and fresh paint
brand new art/
Wonderful imagery. - David
The same could be said for the art of poetry.
Cryssa
This poem is an echo of the vacuity of pretence (I hope those words don't echo). As always, you tease reflection from a jaded soul. I love your work.
Keith
Peace be with you
William
upon request, reveals: Magic Portraitist ;-)
Piero
Ron
hugs
fee
Regis
When my husband first moved here to Idaho, he thought it was drab and ugly. Used to the green, lush backdrop of the midwest, he saw no beauty. I had to point out the subtle mint greens, and the shifts in brown-- the way the sage melted into butte-strewn Snake River plains, and looked like mint velvet from a distance. Now he loves it-- revels in its wild, untamed beauty, and is shocked at the gaudy displays of folliage around the mighty Missouri River.
I think underneath it all, the richer soul, is the one who doesn't need all the fethers and paint--they're the one's that just exist for the joy of existing-- not for clapping hands and ooo's and awe's. You brought this home to me in this fine poem. --Charlie
"to decorate the common tragedy with the personal touch" --
"so many heels and hands steps and gestures that never meet"
... a true revelation of the human condition, (in gallery or out).