Thursday, December 5, 2013

Artistic Creation - by Bob Atkinson

Artistic Creation
(c)2013 Bob Atkinson
many 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 painted lines

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 due honor
without adding something creative
else our talent won't ring true

false talent beyond our measure
tallies points deducted summarily
by 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 critiques voiced by peers

simple forms made to shock
no close looks within those blocks
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
lack of love
for those you share life with
truly common simple breath

making ugly our environment
taking from us all our pride in
what we've built, what we've made
through deviant cultures on parade

ingrained elegance
that which you do not know
powerful feelings inward hopes
of living a life civilized
beauty ever by our side

if you've not shown 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 of our sweet green land
or brown earth areas sparse of man

water conquered by design
perseverance, endless trials
confusion of our fellow man
in how to live in tree lined lands

can't freeze ingrained feelings
better than with artistic notions
trained with an eagle eye
pouncing ever upon emotional ties

seeing dates, times and places
brightened eyes and furrowed faces
stances proud, 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 good mission

No comments:

Post a Comment