(poem) - Art is Not Defined as Being a Confusing Mess

It rained once
Inside my mind
Where all the dry stuff waits
Yet the humidity declined

It was an odd time
To be alive
When the boys there
Tried to strive

I don’t like random
With no conjunction
It makes no sense
Has no function

I’ll end the movie
Before it begins
So I won’t have to deal
With puzzling at the end.

Why do people try
To be all artsy fartsy
With out any real
Substance to their story?

Normally I like
A really good art flick
But I do not want to be told
How to feel by some prick

Beautiful movies
Are true experiences
They are so rare to find
As they have to jump over so many fences

But some movies
Just get put out
Because people don’t understand
What its really about

And they think
“It must be art!”
When its really just
Not very smart....

But in the end
I completely digress
I must bet back to art
And looking at a lioness


For pain supercedes
The rainbow’s true love
Ravens come out of the sky
From the clouds above

And rain their love
Down upon the ocean
Where rocks float
Among the graves of the lemon.

--Dan

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