Art and Human Liberation

Art is not the slave-built things of conquest-nations.
Art is ceaseless paths to human liberations.

Art is not the artist: the ego freshly sold.
Art is democracy, springing fresh, barely told.

To feast on artist is idolatry forlorn.
Art is villageocracy ceaselessly reborn.

Art redeems our besieged human nature:
The Soul's tongue, without regard for nomenclature.

The spirit-storm felling written storied-steeple;
Art is the instinct to liberate the people.

Art is the fair, naturally selected rights restored;
The call, to which artist, by conscience is implored.

All are inspired; all reborn and able.
Our Soul kindles light upon this table.

Behold not stage: for artist's limelight glow;
Soul-art, not artist, is truest light of Home we'll know.



Copyright 2012  L.S. Heatherly

Literature as Epitaph for Humanity

Literature seeps, reaches our immortal,
species' Seed-sprouts; tapping our primordial.

Voice shuns Desire's cold, written speech--
Words painting bright, our species waning bleak;

Voice tastes not, the news'  conversations:
Tonque licks, the olds'  tribe-relations.

Soul sighs! Timed-strewn, voice-pearls form.
Through mind-heart will, our species reborn

Human being's scrawled, Earth-speech?  
Epitaph for Soul, long breached.



2012 All rights reserved