May 10 by The Running Son
the Art is Life poem
Are you an artist?
Hey, can u draw this tat design 4 me?
I dont know, maybe.
But I like the art u already have.
I get you.
Cant hide, I get the meaning
of o… c u (L) t-easing
me into believing your deep?
I get you brother,
I know your deep. Know it deeper than
you care to go making
people into the artist you are and should be
with you life.
A certain, Mr Maslow talked about this.
at length, a scientist of psychic and strange and wonderful
everyday stuff. Things about
creativity being the fabric of every being?
Well he didn’t say that,
but perhaps he’d agree
I know he’d agree that people are art in time
by just being.
Believe that? Want to argue? OKyou’WIN’! like charlie Sheen
I don’t care about what you think
about me. I don’t. You can still
kick my ass tho. I concede, K?
aint mad-doggin you. u da king.
on to less angry-nasty-my-block-my cold-heart
topics, but first let me say to you,
I know. total crap. Be cool. treat ur woman right! K
L? Life? Where is art in my life, sir?
Dont know exactly mam,
but try looking under the bed.
Memories hide under there. Scraps of gloss black
and white memories.
That would look handy in a book!
Or out of the window, that bird pecking would
he never stop please? Could fascination
with birds or noticing a scar on her you never saw b4,
baby.. how’d that happen?
And she will be pleased
to open up the book of her heart
and illustrate precisely how art and life, Maslow’s right, maybe–
are the VERY common parts seeking
themselves in each other
Ying and Yang?
threading art parts in to life giving days
and making night-shining arts to light-illumined ways
of first mending, then softening like an art, some lifeless hearts.