Nudity is important to me.
I write songs, make poems,
paint paintings, sketch
beings in all their glories
and things.
Parts summing to whole,
holes sum up with parties
complicit, enrolled in an
ever-loving wishlist
visit exquisite.
Not talking 'bout that! Just
now. Just this: what is it?
Some way to depict
the catch, the draw,
the call, the pitch
the close.
Like songs, poems,
paintings, sketches,
sculptures and such
that's got no clothes!
It's plausible tact,
with a purpose sincere.
Got nothing whatsoever
to do with that! With
this, with what's here,
but to celebrate, plus
excuse this life. By
making it art, in
a pose so just.
In a light that's
natural as facts,
I do
suppose.
And important for
truth reasons only,
at least.
Still, I must admit,
noting female slant
in the nudity
my clear
rigor-skeptic eye
reports, not
at all askance,
there might be
some bias released
or expressed in this
beast, so wild, so
blest by nudity.
Why?
There's a child as well,
who thinks it's funny
'cause "wrong" - so
naughty as hell! What
a slip!
Some song.
Some lady is out of her
god-damned clothes!
Let all her self out,
full and shown! Disclosed
woot-woot in a juvenile serenade
that stays with me in soul
to my dying days.
I suppose there's
- look! Some dude,
too - hey, that's me!
Where did my clothes
go to? Oh,
we are found, and
known these ways,
or we want to be.
Call it art. Call it life.
How you know it is saved,
what you call it is free.
No word ever coined
could buy amaze.
Sometimes, it's best.
Let a being be.
No comments:
Post a Comment