Life in the museum

Paintings from different eras of
Time when different
thoughts of
How to creatively approach
Art prevailed,
reflective of the issues
Of the day and the complexity of
night

As now everyone is coming from
a
Totally different place, like music,
Blending
colors and tones, instruments
And styles creates different
feelings
In the museum, I get lost in deep
thought

Reflective of a psychoanalysis as to
what
Madness must have ensued when this
Tortured
soul took to canvas, what dreams
These ideas must have come
from, drugs or
Lucidity or nirvana,
miscellaneous

And what sits on computers now, but I
like
The photographs, the idea of being
somewhere
Some image that captured the spirits of

Individuals on film as was the unadulterated
Truth
that a painter could not change, a

Sculptor could
not manipulate in three
Dimensions, poor subject
scrutinized
Yet adored and immortalized at the
moment
It must seem like nothing, yet twenty
years
Later we see you in your hideous polka
dots

Oversized sweaters and your
leggings
Fluorescent colors thought you were cool
The
latest minimalism, and the black and white
Apartment and the
chrome and steel furniture
It means nothing now, yet at that
time was

Everything, your expression, your being,
etc.
Miscellaneous, yet that, the precise reason
I
loose myself in the museum, go back into
Time what must have
seemed like a simpler
Existence yet I am sure was hell to them
then

I can race down the aisles,
imagined
Myself sitting on the floor, the wall
moving
Slower yet, the speed increases over time
The
photographs moving from the right to the
Left in front of my
eyes, quicker, quicker

To run to the window and the
sun rises and sets
Over the course of 30 seconds, and then the
moon
And the sun again, and the seasons pass, yet
I
Do not age and I realize what this is
Escape the
cares of the city, 21 million people

Thousands pass
each other on a busy street in
Manhattan and no one even stops
to realize that
Everyone is entirely different; one who has
lost
Everything, yet is still wearing an
expensive
Suit and a dress shirt that costs more than what
she

Is making, in an entire month, struggling to
get
By to buy medicine to counteract the effects,

Perhaps look somewhat attractive, to meet
someone
That can take her far away, should have been
that
Guy, could have been yesterday, but today
the

Realization the clothes that are in his closet
now,
It may be years if ever, that they are replaced, but

On the outside, you would not know any
different
What do I see in these pictures, on the
outside
Those who know them may know
differently

Capture my image and immortalize me,
read what
I've wrote, never saddened by your loss, our
loss,
It gets better yet continues to get worse, but it
makes
You stronger, impacts me and pins me to the
floor
My muscles fail to move; yet, I transcend all
that

Previously held me back from the promises of
tomorrow