No Body Parts
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No body parts
Not in the arts
No rhyme or play
Can these display
No satin, lace
just covered face
Yet still it's real
The sex appeal
It’s not the parts
That grace the arts
But prudish minds
That call for blinds
The sculpture weeps
The ink blot seeps
And Donne is done
Without that sonne
Under attack
Is the Bard, Shak
His bawdy bleak
His plays all weak
The Musee Louvre
Has lost its grove
No statue there
Can be seen bare
Each painting veiled
For pruds prevailed
Enshrouded art
Without a heart
No pleasured taste
For pruds, a waste
Just nature scene
All else, obscene
Forbid if love…
What it’s made of
Comes into light
And brings delight
Though sacred writ
is full of it
and Song of Songs
Is read by throngs
Passion replete
Makes man complete
No body parts?
Not in the arts?
No love or lust?
Just covered bust
No painting fine?
Or tale sublime?
Forbid it all!!
Art takes the fall
But what is sin,
dwells deep within!!
No body parts
Not in the arts!
but please confess!
Don’t fear redress
Life comes to be
In you and me
When these parts merge
There is a surge
And life springs new
That life is YOU
No body parts…..
Not in the arts
It’s only in...
Reality!
So let it be!
Let Art be free!
Eileen Manassian
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2016
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