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Array
(
[sid] => 168180
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Potato Art
[time] => 2011-10-28 15:07:18
[hometext] => I was always taught as a kid that to be good at art you had to learn how to draw things properly.To this day I still don't understand abstract. This poem is about art through the eyes of a child
[bodytext] => Footsteps echoing on polished floors One small boy clung to the branch of his father's hand Ice-cream smiles all done for the day Mind coiled sleepy for the journey home In oak pannelled silence nothing here for him Oversized paintings stretched along the walls The soldier on horseback, so nearly impressed Yet the beast too cartooned with its spindly legs A gathering of scholars,drawn to the shrines Chattered like children on a journey to school Eyes sparked with wonder they pointed and surveyed From room to room meandering like hunting snake. In the abstract section, innocent joined the wise Merged through opposing doors, one left, one right The small boy stood and watched, then laughed White shirts, black suits, the learned penguin trail "Such infusion of colour", "Dark contrasting light" "A genius with a paintbrush", all the throng concurred "Enigmatic","Inspiring", "Jewels of modern times" The little boy bewildered,moved his head to the side The more he looked at the shapes and the lines The less he understood grownups and the paintings they like Adults so mesmerised at pictures of nothing at all More like the potato art that he did when only 5. The sun slipped its chain and sank into hills As a tiny mind started whirring back into life A last glance at the pictures, a decision made Next time pocket money came,it WOULD be spent on crayons [comments] => 4 [counter] => 262 [topic] => 7 [informant] => puppy_dog_eyes [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
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