Is it that art imitates life?
Or does life imitate art?
If it's the latter, then my life
has been Expressionist from the start.
It may not be aesthetic to you
but there is an enigmatic grace
that stems from the subtle remnants
of pain, permanently etched in my face
You may find my art to be grisly,
truth be told I can't blame you
people condemn that with they don't compare
and for that I can hardly shame you.
If I said graffiti was aesthetic
and you were to tell me that it's not
how would you denounce the value
of the works of Jean-Michel Basquiat?
Art has no set shape or form
the beholder decides its appeal.
Your inability to grasp art's allure
doesn't make the beauty any less real.
A lack of pain can render you sightless,
baffled by struggle and strife.
So I see why you can't realize
the marvel in the art of my life.
I smell dirt and flowers
as men hang nailed in blood.
a wanton feast,
mouths gave audience to
field wine in dusted bottles.
Birds of wisdom,
wings in salt,
I stand the unwelcomed
I cannot walk in this hunger nor do I seek pity,
this path shows me how rough my hands are
and how weak my faith.
I decided not to burden myself and so
I walk behind people.
are these nails in my flesh or is this blood nothing
more but sweat and tear.
at last art imitates life.
A jingle wrestling a tune
A tune
A tune
A wave just cracked
A wave just cracked
A whole book full of notes
A’ have! -How about that? Art imitates
And
And in my face
And in my face was this beautiful
And in my face was this beautiful painting cause
This beautiful painting made me realize
How important it was
And made me realize how important it was
And reminisces
Grey cloth official looking cost me $10.00
Now I'm sharing this with you
And she did say
And she did say 'you already
And still they look
And still they look for
And still they look for
Another cobbled verandah
Another limed Tokay
Art imitates life
Art imitates life
As I speak to you
As I speak to you
As we always have
As they speak
As they speak
was
was
Bane bough buff