"Is there a need for art?" - New poem in 2024

 Photo of one of my favorite graffiti pieces I saw in Hollywood, in 2021, I think.  Is it art?  Everyone has their opinion, but I dig this piece.  #steveemigphotos.

Is there a need for art?

The truth out there is plain to see

Yet humans continue to disagree

Sitting on a rock on a hill, enjoying the view

Of the city below, where humans do what they do

The good, the heroic, the evil and mean, 

The city is the place of human fears and dreams

Though we still can't place where cities got their start

I asked out loud, "Is there a need for art?"

Take away Roman columns, Egyptian hieroglyphics, Greek plays, 

Would it matter how humans spend their days?

Take away cave paintings, ivory etchings, and architecture grand

Would humans still see the guidance of a Creator's hand?

What if the music of a million years had never been heard?

No books, no movies, no poems spoken, only everyday words

What if every spark of inspiration had just fizzled dead?

Would civilization have happened, if all the great ideas had been left unsaid?

The answer is obvious, a definite, "No!"

Without arts of all kinds, there would be nowhere to go

So despite all the pain, all the hate, all the war

Perhaps there's a reason that we're all here for

Perhaps there's a reason actors act and singers sing

There's a reason novelists and poets are seeking something

It's why designers design and movies get made

Why directors direct, and put on their plays

Perhaps it's all part, of a story grand and strong

Playing out over the eons, a span longer than long

Is there a purpose to Art?  An enthusiastic "Yes!" I declare

Music, dance, and stories are always found there

This truth came to me, on a rock on a hill

The grand story of humankind... creativity, drama, and free will

-The White Bear

I just wrote this one, in January 2024, while laid up in a sketchy-ass homeless recuperative center, where I couldn't access social media, write on my blog, and was listening to other people's music and chatter for over a week.  There's such a strong surge of censorship being pushed onto social media and online platforms these days, by certain groups who hate books, art, and most of makes life interesting, that's it's like this continuous under current of hate and negativity.  I've written very few poems in the last 16 years, and this one came out pretty messy, when it came time to write it down.  But it captures a lot of what I feel these days, being creative in my own unique ways, in a world where there's so many forces coming down on arts of many different kinds, because they don't conform to certain ideologies.  

I recently wrote a big post on my Substack about poetry, writing poems, and becoming a poets decades ago.  If that sounds interesting, check it out:

Steve Emig The White Bear's Substack