Art had a sunny ebullient character, a passion
For observation and understanding, a talent
To report emotions and sentiments reconciling
Instincts with reason depicting human melees,
Eternal duels in the abysses of motley feelings,
Longing for happiness despite struggling to be attached
To a life underlined by an intrinsic sadness, complex reactions
To a world imbued with beauty, tragedy and cruelty.
Portraying marvellous landscapes nature galore
Blown out by earthquake and tsunamis, volcanic eruptions,
Grand civilisations philosophising discovering and inventing
Expanding through wars, wiped out by plagues and remorse.
Journalists of other epochs where creativity was the fruit
Of heed and care, empathy, sympathy and compassion,
Impuissance resulting in insufferable frustrations
Vented on reuniting chefs-d’oeuvres.
Art endured through it all and beyond, neglect
Poverty, mockery, tuberculosis and syphilis until
It tired fighting causes lost in people’s indifference
And eventually complied to the restrictive rules
Of commissions. Distracted and reinvented Art began
Seeking recognition to inebriate ego and know
Its work was appreciated messages accustomed
To an audience of disbelievers trading authenticity
For Dollar. Its new best friends, Marketing and Agent
Invited it to trust the money making machine insuring
Its creativity will be regarded as divine regardless
Whether it still mirrors even an ounce of reality
Never mind reflecting Art’s original intentions.
Now prosperity moved Art to a grandiose villa
Golden doorknobs Champaign and wild parties
Reaching to extremes its self-esteem skyrocketing, yet
In an instant of accidental silence it ponders and convenes,
‘Though I sold my soul to the devil my purposeless crafts
Will be forgotten, all I have left is Dollar and to God
I will sacrifice it, for redemption and a platinum ticket
To the paradise I surrendered seeking long ago.’
[Featured painting: Dollar Sign by Andy Warhol, 1981]