Get Your Premium Membership


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 © | 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

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.