Art Poem by Leslie Alexis

Though the tip’s dipped in ink,
The art looks like a squid sprayed
The colors, they are out of sync:
As if they were done by a grenade.
Lovers of torment it would serenade.

From abstract to absurd;
And carried by tidal waves
The artist uses trash to gird.
Idiot! A man by the name, Staves,
Shows many plant flourishing on graves.

He had too many turns.
Like a tornado’s winds blown,
He took without any concerns,
Of things passed and of thing to be known;
Of all, why so crooked a picture sewn?

On each look, I see less…
Can it be knowledge is rife?
And wisdom is blamed for the mess?
For each man’s drawn knelt before a wife…
And he named the piece; he named the piece life.

Copyright ©2010 Leslie Alexis