Saturday, March 31, 2012

History of Art by Bob Atkinson

History of Art
(c)2012 by Bob Atkinson

other objects strive to gain
attention in the artistic game
setting themselves up as central
artistic cores for painted subjects

birds, trees, animals
raging wild snorting bulls
buildings, bridges, royal halls
religions sacred, meant to awe

all these have good meaning
drawing artists' artistic feelings
to the fore of creative minds
standing still for chalk and oils

when we sit down and ponder
didn't create that scene so wonderful
didn't make the river bend
shallow brook, or sweet red hen

aren't gods who have that power
so how can we claim the honor
without adding something powerful
else our talent won't ring true

false talent beyond our measure
tallies points deducted with summation
of those who carry on their drama
claiming that which they do not own

talent casts an angry wave
onto the canvas if not made
with the efforts long and sincere
many hours the voice of peers

simple forms made to shock
no close looks within those faces
no lines of worry on the brow
or angry man breathing hard

tell me now and firmly why
graffiti is an art of yours
simple forms and simple lines
do not fine art make

they only tell stories of

your backwards feelings

your lack of love for 

those you share life with

making ugly our environment

taking from us all our pride in

what we've built and made

ingrained culture

that which you do not know

powerful feelings inward hopes

of living in a life civilized

  if you won't show emotion
can't claim directness or devotion
need to shrink within your lark
can't hold good form if not good art

in my mind no subject can
rise higher in importance than history does
how can we freeze ingrained emotions
better than with our artistic notions?

seeing dates, times and places
brightened eyes and furrowed faces
stances proud and kneeling crying
solid hope and violent dying

tell me if my idea hits walls
can we line these hallowed halls
with that which we feel inside
always driving through our pride

with time set still, a frozen crystal
down below, our deepest thoughts
flying firmly beyond light's vision
toward that which defines our mission

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