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Sketch me a little ditty,
my dear demoiselle d’art,
a fun little tune to while away
whilst waiting for you

Fresco me arias, operettas,
prima donnas with swelt breasts,
flushed faces straining to send
song that cannot be sound

Let your brushstrokes carry me
as the staff carries notes,
brushy staccato thunderclaps
ala hits of the orchestra brass
doping me up for the smooth,
linear neoclassicist, dances
promenading in stately elegance
meets glazed, syrup-flowing grace
so thick you can stick a fork in it,
and then I'm done, down before you

Strum me Warhol and Liechtenstein
on that rhythm guitar in the corner
6-strings standing in for the 60s

Lay me down, with smooth jazz,
silky, sexy dancing notes in the air
as Lawrence's figures find that sweet spot
of joy in sorrow, blues-ecstatic where art
and sense meet in minds for
consummate matches of dancing skill,
whirling away on the sinuous breeze out,
out into that sweet, smoky haze
The nights of the Jazz Age reborn
with sfumato neon lights ablaze

Picture me this, capture in your lights
the electric sex of the Funky sound
in this here town as I show such sights
as leaves hair standing up on end;
adding shivers, quivers into the
metronome breathing in your chest

Let me steady your trembling sketch
as Rock falls, falls, falls
into decadence untold, untellable
and its children burst forth
from that half-live corpse
crying out in discordant harmony of purpose
"Life, life, give me life!"

Model Me Mozart in Marble, in Mist.
I could just have gotten excited about having a way to call a girl a chick in a way most people wouldn't realize. Or I could just have pondered the teacher's gushing about Kandinsky and his music paintings and this text I was reading which discussed the difficulties one has to overcome when drawing as opposed to printmaking or painting. (and apparently this one referred to smudge-able materials as more painting than drawing, only line would suffice).

Those writing about art seem to have a tendency towards the grandiose and emotional, you just have to be able to pick up on it, scattered as it is through the huge texts as it so often is written.

Anyway, I wrote this up 5-14-07, yesterday, after AP Art History was over and we're in the middle of crazy review for the AP test tommorrow, so of course, my brain is boiling and such.

Wait till you see the erotic poetry that this spawned.

Come here and gimme some Baroque Bach, baby,
I'll titillate you with Tchaikovsky...
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KayWebb Featured By Owner May 17, 2007
Was about to say on the journal'd version: ":heart:. Submit this so I can +fav it, already!" Then I thought, "Oh, wait..."

Yeah, I'm silly. :D
Coidzy Featured By Owner May 17, 2007
Eh? you read my journal? whoa.

Yes, you are silly. I am silly too though.
KayWebb Featured By Owner May 17, 2007
Yeah, I usually do. I'm just a habitual lurker (on more things than one), though. >> <<
Coidzy Featured By Owner May 17, 2007
Hm... So you're saying LJ and online in general, not just AIM... and deviantART.... Interesting. Why do you lurk?

So why'd you like this in the first place?
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Submitted on
May 15, 2007
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