# art is falling apart



## Fats Velvet (Mar 27, 2015)

art
is an act of falling apart –
not this substitute of confetti for glass –
or a riot cordoned off in a white picket fence –
art is the pile of meat in the alley –
touched by mace, with at least
trace amounts of heart -

these argots smelt ingots from dirt -
not separate – not art – a palatable polemic –
emotional coinage - art is the crud in the dumpster
behind the market – separate scraps, coalesced stench –
if it sounds too good to be true it isn’t art - 

art is an act falling apart –
not alphabet soup boiled to mush –
it is a tic under a microscope –
a crack in the spine of your favorite book
when it is too dark to read –

the hypnosis of rhythm comes from
knowing it will stop – art is falling apart –
art is tying ends.


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## Darkkin (Mar 27, 2015)

Definitely food for thought.  Sublime word usage.  It's honest, gritty, and organic.


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## Olly Buckle (Mar 27, 2015)

So art is a depiction of reality, not a pretty picture made up reality, but nitty gritty. Hmm, not sure it need be this though; 'the pile of meat in the alley' or 'the crud in the dumpster behind the market – separate scraps, coalesced stench'. Entropy is the reality of the world, sure, but there can be a gentle decay;  the end of day spread out across the sky like a patient etherised upon a table; a dying day, but beautiful in some way. I understand the rejection, but it is easy to throw out the baby with the bath water.
Some phrases about what art is not give the impression of being cliche 'a riot cordoned off in a white picket fence' or 'a palatable polemic' for example, I don't think they really are, but it has an un-appealing quality, most appropriate.
On the other hand I really go for; 'argots smelt ingots', the ephemerality of language creating the solidity of metal.

So overall, I am not sure that I like it, or even fully agree, but I did think it worth reading and considering.


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## jenthepen (Mar 28, 2015)

Fats Velvet said:


> art
> is an act of falling apart –
> not this substitute of confetti for glass –
> or a riot cordoned off in a white picket fence –
> ...



It needed to be said and I couldn't have put it better myself (or nearly as well.)

jen


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## Fats Velvet (Mar 29, 2015)

Thanks Darkkin and Jen.

Your reflections are interesting Olly.  The poem as a reaction to what I perceive as the prevailing trend of a psuedo-realistic effort to transcend negativity through monument building ("art"), is, I agree, extremely pessimistic.  Little, if anything, in the world is whole.  We can agree that beauty is an ephemeral phenomena, but does that make it special and therefore deserving of prominence?  The contrasting reality is what interests me.  Art should reflect the mundane, brute banality of reality.  Transcending it is delusional at best, pretty poems and all.  Even language, its rhythm and multiplicities, is an imperfect tool; it is good for approximations.  Ingots come from dirt.  So do we, and so does language.  Why aggravate that imperfection by misusing it to erect imaginary ivory towers?

Of course, one might argue art is art in and to itself, argots and all, in which case all a work of art is describing is itself or others like it, reality only by stretch of imagination.     But what the fuck is it good for then?   Intellectual masturbation.  Not real art.


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## sas (Oct 21, 2016)

I'm reading older posts from this group. Like your work, so looked for it. I was surprised that this one read like a damn good slam.  Thumbs up.


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## escorial (Oct 22, 2016)

Fats Velvet said:


> Thanks Darkkin and Jen.
> 
> Your reflections are interesting Olly.  The poem as a reaction to what I perceive as the prevailing trend of a psuedo-realistic effort to transcend negativity through monument building ("art"), is, I agree, extremely pessimistic.  Little, if anything, in the world is whole.  We can agree that beauty is an ephemeral phenomena, but does that make it special and therefore deserving of prominence?  The contrasting reality is what interests me.  Art should reflect the mundane, brute banality of reality.  Transcending it is delusional at best, pretty poems and all.  Even language, its rhythm and multiplicities, is an imperfect tool; it is good for approximations.  Ingots come from dirt.  So do we, and so does language.  Why aggravate that imperfection by misusing it to erect imaginary ivory towers?
> 
> Of course, one might argue art is art in and to itself, argots and all, in which case all a work of art is describing is itself or others like it, reality only by stretch of imagination.     But what the fuck is it good for then?   Intellectual masturbation.  Not real art.


 
liked the poem but found the reply just as enjoyable..both rock


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## jenthepen (Oct 22, 2016)

Come back, Fats. We miss you so much. 

jen


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## midnightpoet (Oct 22, 2016)

jenthepen said:


> Come back, Fats. We miss you so much.
> 
> jen



I agree; although some of his poetry was so far in left field, they bounced over the stadium roof.:icon_cheesygrin: Still, I usually liked them (even though I may not have understood them) because they made you think - and that's one thing that poetry should do.

Tony


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## -xXx- (Oct 25, 2016)

yes.
yes, indeed.
he did come back for a minute.
once.
*stares*


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## mitchishere21 (Nov 5, 2016)

You can see the authenticity, through your word choice. Its gritty, honest, unique and follows a strong belief.
Great food for thought.


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