The Canvas
The object of art is not to reproduce reality,
but to create an alternate reality of the same duality.
The true value of art lies in its vision
and creating a visual spectacle is every artist's mission.
I fell in love with art as a child,
on whom fate was unkind
for it was the only escape
from the worrisome lores in my mind.
To the father who art in heaven,
I questioned when I turned seven,
O benevolent! why is the world so indifferent
to the peaceful, submissive yet so belligerent?
Art is naught but a trap that exudes gravity,
with the opulence that veils the depravity.
The wealthy acquire art to avoid embezzlement,
While its glory eludes the commoner's amazement.
Each stroke of a brush on the canvas
weighed carefully with intensity,
as brilliant as the words of a poet,
worth the artist and his tenacity.
With recollections like an empty parchment
I dust off my briefcase as I set off late for work,
leaving behind the grimy apartment
as cold and empty as my superior's smirk.
I settle down avoiding his gaze,
but I care no more,
cause at the dawn in a haze
I left his missus on the bed all sore.
You cannot create a masterpiece,
with a void in your heart
unless you repay the debt owed to your fate apiece,
to deepen the perfection in your art.
Standing in front of the canvas,
red is the color I chose,
with patterns imprinted like the walk of shame,
for I hope that it won't look any more of the same.
I grab the brush in my hand tightly,
a blade clutched in the other unsightly
shivering like a leaf in the autumn air,
with a few moments until the last breath to spare.
Open to any feedback! Please feel free to comment. Thank you
Posted Aug 18, 2022, 6:44 PM UTC
I really enjoyed this, especially the reference to religion. It reminded me of my thought process at the time. Work like this is why I can’t stop writing and reading; you’ve perfectly articulated a human experience I thought was my own. It’s refreshing knowing we aren’t alone in our thought, I find.
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