in the cherub’s eyes

by anthony

…then I hear those keys playing and

I remember every memory that made me what I am.

The love I was given that I now indulge in doubly.

The boyish excitement in my responsibilities.

The families that came and went.

Those are what those keys mean.

The smell in the darkness of an empty theater.

The eeriness of the ghostlight helping the house settle,

listening to the wood conversing with itself

in the silence of its beautiful melody.

Joining together as a family,

ready for the battle of a new season,

pushing each other until the last days,

cursing Dionysus,

knowing the rich emptiness when it is all over

that we wait in until

the next time around

the next battle.

Those are what the 88’s coming together

can bring back in a man.

A wise one once said,

“Live your life to the fullest…

so later on,

you can write about it

and live it all again.”

There’s a power in us over what we do

because when the morning sun calls to

pause your dreams for reality,

let life be the sage,

not sense.

Those are the lessons the artist learns.

That is why the artist is admired.

When you interweave past lives

with reality and hopes,

it all seems to just make sense.

It’s quite humbling

and we, the artist, become greedy for the world to know.

…in that lust thus spawned the cherub of art

and in his eyes, ordinance did succumb to naivety…