Of Art, and the Artistic Heart
Tim Kavi
a solemn work
there is something to see
I don't know quite yet
what will it be?
but as the notes play on
the fires of inspiration
burning perspiration
show the words that speak
they keep me awake at night
sometimes wrestling with angels
dangling across the abyss
so serious is this?
I am laughing laughing laughing
postwar blisses
on canvases of many
some are blank
and some are puny
but I will damn well say it
on a written page
a flickering screen
a dusty memory
of a forgotten sage
there is a history to be told
but most importantly
a creative burst of energy
as quantum moments unfold
I know what is seen
will be revealed
in the final scene
no longer concealed
a coherent whole
finally uttered
in the words that flowed
now uncluttered
there is only what the art
reveals, sad and contrite
happy and longing for
of words, senses, and bits
of trances
and ecstatic fits
the uttered cannot be brought back
the published is what is said
the last reel
the messy editing room
other words and images on the floor
images await for expressions more
are you a lover
or just a whore?
being or seeming
what's the score?
maybe only the artist will know
for in both cases you are
undressed before the world!
of art, and the artistic heart
of life, and limb
and pounding heart
of kisses in works of love
of meanings in the messages
concealed in stories told
of prophets shaking
peeing in the wind
of actors quaking
before the cameras roll
there is only the revealed
final work expressed
revisions done at last
where all is made manifest
you who imagines
as if an iconoclast
a historical revisionist
of things made past
speak truth if you can
that dialogue will last!
of the two made one
the collapsing waves
of art, and the artistic heart
Oh, be not forgotten
that not for a moment
lost and unbegotten
your words stand sure
it is finally clear
of art, and the artistic heart.
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