Art is a Drug (Tough Break)

Art is a drug.
Producer of dopamine,
you know what I mean,
I can’t ignore you
muse of my muse
most of the time I can’t afford you
and heart of my passion
I would strive to do anything for you.
But in this vegetative state,
I can do little but stare at what you could be
or what you should be
or if you could create yourself what you would be
were it up to you,
but it is up to me.

you see,

Art is a drug.
I am an addict,
I want to write plays
so I can’t live my life without dramatics
if my life should gain some modicum of balance
everything gets anticlimactic
like pleasurelessly fucking for hours
with no thanks
the pelvic thrusts leave a fire in your flanks,
and I’ve been writing for hours,
and still I’m shooting blanks.

Art is a drug.
No high like this exists,
open your eyes wide when you shoot up
because this needle is always hit and miss:
you strike at nothing or something vital,
because when you crack that vein and the art gets suicidal
that’s when you’ve crossed into immortality.
That’s when your art transcends reality
and you bend all in-formalities,
however
most of us aren’t prepared to die in the line of duty.
A greater percentage of us would rather drive to the cliff and pull a u-ie,
saying we did, but didn’t really.
Thinking that a near death experience would be the beginning of a fresh start,
that almost kicking the bucket would bring a whole new nuance to this art.
But really,
it just gets harder,
dying for your art just to live on as a martyr
is foolish,
because once you cease to breathe, you plateau.
The worst thing to happen to any artist
is that he might cease to grow.

Art is a drug.
Producer of dopamine,
you know what I need.
A playwright needs dramatics,
he takes the dirt of his life to feed his schematics,
because without drama,
his work is like a marathon of Spongebob with only Patricks.
Then we all go through withdrawal,
going off,
stomping around,
ticked and pissed,
knowing you’ve come up with an idea
everyone else has seemed to miss,
Knowing for sure that not even M Night Shymalan could think up this twist,
you rejoice in the thought of this.

BUT

Art is a drug.
That’s what this poem is about.
Sometimes songs sang smoking skunkweed
turn out shitty.
And more often than not,
the slumber is the best part about whisky.
But you have the initial idea.
You kept it safe though unconcealed,
and now you want to see your vision made real.
See,
The inception is always more beautiful that the conception,
and the conception is always better than it’s reception,
but when it comes time to buckle down for direction,
it’s like pickups sticks for the blind,
it’s like there’s no time
to make this diamond shine
so it suffers.
It festers in your mind, like the others,
it’s a shame.
A perfectly good idea left to die,
a producer of dopamine
only to be remembered as a high.

Tough Break…

Art is a Drug (Tough Break)

Shaquille Stewart

Montgomery Village, United States

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ART! ART! ART! GENERIC ART POEM!

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