The Artist Poem by John Devaraj

The Artist is a dream generator
Walking in the shoes of the creator:
The imagination of the Artist
So wild, tender and passionate
The restless meandering soul in urgent persuasion
Bursting into expression with his embittered soul
Of Life's intimacies, forged from social persecutions
The depth of his thinking colored with self-confessions;
The pleasure of painting is in the pain and agony of finding.
That humanity is bought by money and thrives on hypocrisy.
That relationships, grows on false affections, and money collections!
Subverts the gentle dreamer, to slanderous inflictions.
The petty mindedness in the masses of the rich,
Knows not what to buy and which!
Through his sculpting, he liberates,
The human, imprisoned in the crevices of the stone
He caresses the hearts of his stonehearted fellow beings
With plumages he rendered in soft strokes
Of pastel shades of the birds of paradise and the rainbow!
Still the Artist lives alone,
Haunted by the pictures of his mind, that which he created.
He lives the contradiction of living and being
Of needing money to paint; with the sacrificing spirit of a saint.
Everybody loves a jasmine, yet can live without it, very poorly!
Everybody wants love's labor, but reject labours love
Everybody wants art, but nobody wants the artist!
The perception of the artist is divine!
He embodies perfect love and infuses beauty for all.
He rebukes hatred and invokes the goodness of all.
He empowers the helpless with his song
He stirs the kindred spirits of those who yearn for justice,
He awakens all souls from indignation and hibernation.
He resurrects the mind ~ dead to emancipation;
The artist is the vision of a new life
Because he envisions life always anew.
Regard and respect him and you will see
The artist is the prophet; his art prophecy
John Devaraj 19th January 2005,1 am.