naught save the peddlers of art
where entertainment’s a la carte
and the menu card’s kind a faulty
yet here we’re reasonably comfy
so show us the justice of poetry
lost in the valley of minutes and years
it’s audience so glad to have been found
consumers shall ever-consume and
......
Arranged by two's as peaches are,
at intervals that all may live—
eight and a single one, on twigs that
grew the year before—they look like
a derivative;
although not uncommonly
the opposite is seen—
nine peaches on a nectarine.
Fuzzless through slender crescent leaves
of green or blue or
......
The old lady kept coming by
the hospital to assure the medics that it'll be
okay
"He's a true fighter," she said. "I know he'll make it.
He has won the battle with drugs
twice in the past. He'll make it this time as well. I
know it. I feel it. I believe in him."
"Mam," said the doctor. "We found rusty fragments
......
I came upon an article from Feb 2023 about the Joan Mitchell Foundation calling for Louis Vuitton to stop using her paintings in their handbag commerical. The artists work is often exploited by those who have little appreciation for what they do. This is just one of the many examples of that. Most people would see this as good exposure for her, they cannot understand how personal a work of art can be for someone. It's not something you can just give away like that. Sometimes obscurity has it's advantages.
Continue readingI came upon an article from Feb 2023 about the Joan Mitchell Foundation calling for Louis Vuitton to stop using her paintings in their handbag commerical. The artists work is often exploited by those who have little appreciation for what they do. This is just one of the many examples of that. Most people would see this as good exposure for her, they cannot understand how personal a work of art can be for someone. It's not something you can just give away like that. Sometimes obscurity has it's advantages.
Continue reading
naught save the peddlers of art
where entertainment’s a la carte
and the menu card’s kind a faulty
yet here we’re reasonably comfy
so show us the justice of poetry
lost in the valley of minutes and years
it’s audience so glad to have been found
consumers shall ever-consume and
......
Destruction in the name of the Arts,
Hypocrisy eclipses the creators, for their tools burn home.
Fossil fuels for abstracts and Deforestation for novels
Sisyphus laughs at their sophomoric efforts,
For humanity blinds us under the guise of protection.
True life considers more than the vessel it resides in.
Sincere music’s insights are unlimited to the ears.
Authentic art faults never to its boundless perspectives.
Intuitive photography narrates beyond its frames.
Empathetic poetry humbles every language comprehensible.
True media is commissioned by the intangible.
Thursday 6 June 2024
......
In the quiet chambers, where the soul resides, There lies a sacred wisdom, where true knowledge hides. Beyond the realms of logic, beyond the mind's vast art, There blooms a deeper knowing, the knowledge of the heart.
It whispers in the silence, in the spaces in between, In moments soft and tender, in visions deeply seen. It's felt in every heartbeat, in the rhythm of life's song, A truth that's pure and timeless, where hearts forever long.
This knowledge needs no language, no words to understand, It's written in the actions, in the touch of a loving hand. It sees beyond the surface, to the essence deep inside, A bridge that spans the distance, where souls can safely hide.
For in the heart's own knowing, there's a wisdom vast and true, A guide through all the shadows, a light in every hue. It teaches us compassion, to see with loving eyes, The beauty in each moment, where grace and wonder lie.
So trust the heart's own wisdom, let its knowledge be your guide, In every step you take, in every tear you've cried. For in the heart's own keeping, there's a wisdom pure and bright, A path to deeper meaning, where day transforms to night.
In the quiet chambers, where the soul resides, There lies a sacred wisdom, where true knowledge hides. Beyond the realms of logic, beyond the mind's vast art, There blooms a deeper knowing, the knowledge of the heart.
It whispers in the silence, in the spaces in between, In moments soft and tender, in visions deeply seen. It's felt in every heartbeat, in the rhythm of life's song, A truth that's pure and timeless, where hearts forever long.
This knowledge needs no language, no words to understand, It's written in the actions, in the touch of a loving hand. It sees beyond the surface, to the essence deep inside, A bridge that spans the distance, where souls can safely hide.
For in the heart's own knowing, there's a wisdom vast and true, A guide through all the shadows, a light in every hue. It teaches us compassion, to see with loving eyes, The beauty in each moment, where grace and wonder lie.
So trust the heart's own wisdom, let its knowledge be your guide, In every step you take, in every tear you've cried. For in the heart's own keeping, there's a wisdom pure and bright, A path to deeper meaning, where day transforms to night.