Art Is Dead My Friend
ART IS DEAD MY FRIEND
ART IS DEAD.
Whitewashed and derailed,
By modernism vacuous hand.
That scream empty metaphors.
To cash rich sympathisers
And con-ceptualists scamming our intellect,
with their o so profound egotistical postulating.
About the nature of existence,
And meaning of being.
But it's all smoke and mirrors.
A three card trick.
Unsatisfying unnourishing.
Greasy burgers for the soul.
What would VAN Gogh do?
Probably pluck out an eye,
And sew an ear to his head.
So lets have a moment silence,
In this hour of grief,
As I whisper "art may you rest in peace".
Copyright © Paul Martin | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment