Steady changing

Steady changing art
Always lacks position
Takes itself apart
With decomposition.

Vitruvian man

Femurs, nipples, knees and chin,
Leonardo did begin
To measure man apart from God,
And rediscovered man as flawed.

Suicide art

Suicide art,
Awareness so smart,
Culturing death in disguise,
Breathless you form,
Collectively norm,
Precipitate what you despise,
Sculpting a savior,
Of human behavior,
In whom we all must agree,
In love with mankind,
You never will find
Freedom, but captivity.
Without God the Good,
Declined personhood,
Rejecting what’s real, resurrected,
Joined hand in hand
Within sinking sand,
To creatures, Creator rejected,
With man as your prize,
You’ll cannibalize
‘Til monstrosities we all are.
“What’s yours is mine”,
Declares Frankenstein
“Inequity’s my wrecking bar.”

She drew her medication

A drawing, her creation,
A bottle, her prescription,
In charcoal, medication,
Simplified, depiction,
Flatness, no gradation,
Censored, the inscription,
Magnified, the station,
Restraining, her conniption,
Depression, of elation,
Sedating, contradiction.

Old process

Old process suppressed, 

Cleaned up the mess,

Discards, leftovers,

New four leaf clovers.

 

Pixelated

 

I dreamt TV was pixelated

Transmissions fully squared

Voices over modulated

Entranced nobody cared

Circles stirred

Mark Lombardi plenty smart

Mark Lombardi made some art

Circles, arcs, connect the dots,

Getting warmer, boiling hot.

Reference librarian,

Dangling some carrion,

Scandals roots and sprouts,

Hung himself. The story out

The height of his career.

Little pretext. queer.

Very next the year,

Manhattan’s rubble cleared.

Drawing near the nexus,

Seems he broke his neck for us,

Locked up there in Williamsburg,

Far too many circles stirred.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xz_TfsAgvHM#t=84

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Lombardi

Statist cowed

The art never existers

Artistic counterfeiters

Relieved as art it passes

To icons for the masses

Helping each pretender

Trade for legal tender

Idols state allowed 

Holy statist cowed

Solitaire

Dare to stop and stare

Silently affirm with care

Art’s a visual affair,

Personal and solitaire.

Lone wolf

Empty cups are when she stops

Brushes filled with paint like mops

Spontaneous not planned or drawn

She’s an unaware Wolf Kahn