Thursday, 5 November 2015

The Multicultural Museum

Adulthood is the stamping of surnames on baby faces
The rod of royalty will end either
In blood or nirvana
A king is nothing without his people
His people more than they could ever be
Without him
The heir will torture their brains
By the collapse of civilization
A pounding headache of which to be the prisoner of

A man is his own slave until he learns to tame the animal
Inside his head
There is a rhythm to the chaos of civilization
The coming and going of heart attacks
Offending health with karma deserved
Brains in need of cleansing
Dispelling darkness from the brain
Caving into the gross craving
Those who worship virgins
Speak no evil of virginity, unless you have your own intact

Listen closely to the lectures of nature
Birds assume of the sky their own property
To park in the garage wingspans
Of infinite feathers in hues
Invisible to the human eye
The sky is the canvas the artist would die to paint
A blank canvas is the most valuable
Blending ignorance credible to their egos
Entitlement is the freedom to think of the free world

A short-term memory is never a basis
For cursing
Please do not present art as religion
Or vice versa
Bad art is never art
Never make excuses for the lazy artist
The one who deprives of his talent realistic ability
Never paint religion
Either
The paintbrush will always lose if it pains whatever it wants