Many say life imitates art
not to me and not for us
to us art imitates life
for I am a member of a select few
I am an artist
and we are
assigned
reserved
talents
and illustrious
specialists
with the
temerity
to question
society
we are artists
our luster shines among the laborious
our excellence is exalted
our distinctions are devine
our conspicuous talents refuse to be tainted
by conspiracy
we are artists
our mental ability allows us to manipulate the mundane
our splendor separates us from the selfsame
our magnificence is magnified by our manic desires
our word is bond and we are bonded by the word
simply put
the luminance of our body consists of the saturation
of brightness
we
be
badd
we are artists
we are the original illuminati
the elightened ones
our forebarers are
davinci
michelangelo
botticelli
ben franklin
and thomas jefferson
we create societies values with words and paint
we desicrate crucibles of conscience
and force the uninitiated to praise our passion
we are artists
our feuds amongst ourselves are real and imagined
we sweep those outside of our society
into the malestrom of our muse
we burn bridges and return to build them
in our leisure
we snitch
we switch sides
we cannot hide like the rest of society
we say what we say and mean every word
at that time
we own our words
in prose and rhyme
dammit
we are artists
we segue into shakespeare
enter erotic zones
gangster the dangling participle
make love to the riddle
scream until spittle
is flying
we eviscerate those who hate for hate sake
we then sit back bemused as people try to decipher
our meaning behind the meaning underneath
what we meant to say when we really meant it
get it
we are artists
we infrom you
we disarm you
we choose to
we deny your right to
we demand from you
we expect from you
we cannot be hurt by you
because you could never be
who we are
you in society drive the car
we deliberate on the ride and extrapolate
the reason why you rode
we
be
badd
we are artists
women and men love us
trust us
want to make love to us
thrust us
into spotlights we bask in
you can be our friends
but you cannot be us
unless you lust like us
for meaning beyond the mundane
unless you are willing to subject yourself to pain
and while most cry
we scribes refuse to let a tear dry
without breathing life into the meaning of our tears
our fears
are presented for the world to critique
be them in sleek silky sonnets
or straight no chaser tasers
we cannot hide from our declarations
and i declare today
that we are the epitome of a secret society
we are artists
you read and hear the beefs and are entertained
we sit and reserve the right to feel pain
we dont hate our brother and sisters in the colony
just leave us be
and continue to laugh
and cringe
and observe
as we singe
and titillate
and mentally masturbate
and determine the fate
of fools with a myopic vision
with precision
we slice pronouns
hound the muse for more
we implore
our minds
to redefine
the signs
of the universe
we rehearse
we curse
we write chapter and verse
in adverse conditions
we are artists
do not try to understand us
we do not understand why we were given this gift
and at times the enormity of this skill
causes a rift
amongst us
for we lust
for lunimance
we are brilliant
and dammit
we know it
dont we show it
everyday of the week
including sunday
because by the supremes decree
we see what you cannot
or are unwilling to see
we are who you refuse to be
we are truly free men and women
we are prepared to live
and some of us are ready to die
for the words we write and speak
dammit
we are unique
we are artists
so when you encounter us
dont ask where we find the nerve
the verve
to make verbs
dance
and leave you entranced
just thank us for being willing
to live and die
on the conjunction of a thread
and if one of us falls
bless the dead
for he or she died
as an artist
dammit

All Poetry by D.Greaves/Darwin Greaves by D.Greaves-Darwin Greaves is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at dgreaves.posterous.com.
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