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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The Materials of Criticism - by Bob Atkinson to look upon a word fixed art for value of the whole or parts begins a journey demonstrated to frustrate each of the five senses do we? could we? can we? here in the "here and now" produce our cultural standing by lining words in a row can we? do we? could we? put value on our art or would it suffice to percolate ingredients in a pot that which makes up the whole contains some parts plus simple hope many seeds of doubt, some blind faith loose fundamentals warmed to percolate boil this stew in an open pot wander over meanings uncovered string appetite of mind along a line of selfish devotion to an adept mind thus craving credentials and accolades with independence of well written pages try as nature creates a need molding most to firm fixed greed avarice dependent, an encircled fire aspiration drawn toward life's desire direction fielded, ego supplemented when open rawness becomes regimented broadcast to those who care about this person's rage who loudly shouts simple signals of directional flow mixed with endless personal selfdom all nuance transmitted within the hope of mending what's perceived as broken broken carries diverse meanings when seen with eyes of different teachings broken, to some, fits life so tight the critic's words lie dormant, unlighted when not in tune with rational heart words have no meaning, a useless art art fulfills some need of nature to analyze for form and flavor tenderly we read their stuff then regurgitate our lunch
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