|
Menu
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
Death of Art
Contributed by
caloianu
on
Saturday, 4th May 2013 @ 07:18:44 PM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
Oh, rest my child of everlasting passion Of whom God made this decades hellish fire, Forever loved, now enter Gods Empire, And let His magic carry on your ashes.
To rest is time. To rest and be forgiven. For all those years of warming light, I thank you No single soul like yours shall enter Heaven No gift like yours to any will be given.
I must now leave you child, the wars are coming And this one story really needs completing. The Death of Art Im witnessing defeated, And poets at the bleeding arc are dying.
Copyright ©
caloianu
... [
2013-05-04 19:18:44] (Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
Re: Death of Art
(User Rating: 1 ) by Former_Member on
Saturday, 4th May 2013 @ 09:47:29 PM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Your title is ancient and surreal, yet so very timely in these sad times. Partial innocence, lost, speech of free thought, misinterpreted as it often is where art is contemporary yet missing for many in turbulent times, the heat, the war,
the missing reasons nowhere to be found. The truly best in any is missing, concealed, too often unseen, rarely discussed, even in pure misery. But do not be cynical. For there is love and light. Defeat, she is a description, pure as any thought.
Go back and look, the art depicted long ago can register even today as these days roll past.
Art is a voice. Words in any language, resonate, backwards, forwards, a broken composite, or a moral compass, what is the vision of the artist or the reason to interpret, is a good enough place to begin.
I think we're all wrong sometimes. Me most of all. To know your enemy is not to defeat them, even when you know
they may never listen.
I'm imbued by all the tools now that so many folks before never had , and yet struck by what we all neglect.
Don't leave, any child. We so need the artist and the art,
but not to compare. The art is to speak truth. The cradle of life is so vast, not just human minds, but all life.
Free them enough, if you can, so they can free themselves. ART Lives!
Peace!
|
|
|
|