Art In Love, Art Is Life
There goes the Mona Lisa and Picasso's girlfriends
scribbling down the highway of surrealism,
as the Scream is breaking glass with a high-pitched cry in Oslo;
and the melting clocks of Dali's masterpiece stops time for a moment,
as the paintings fall in love.
As color spectrums mix together to create nothing but a mess,
that we all in some way call art,
the Mona Lisa sits and gives one of her snobby smiles.
Picasso lights another cigarette and invites another French girl to his apartment,
paint flies everywhere, as articles of clothing start to strip off,
and the screamer is still screaming, for what?- I have no clue.
All I know is, art is in love.
What a minute- who invited the Thinker?!
All he does is sit there and think all day!
My head would ache if I thought hard and long like a marble statue all day long.
Get out of here Thinker, and take the Scream with you,
he's making me deaf!
There you are art in love, nothing but dead guys, painting naked girls,
who give an innocent smile,
but so a little more than their teeth,
and those Dali clocks that melt slowly in an ideal painting,
you can almost hear time ticking backwards.
Art is beautiful,
Art is life.
.2.4.2014.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
