I was king of the art school

I was king of the art school
Its rooms like larders
I walked into them as if into light
It was the discovery of a rich seam of gold
That the spirit of life had shown me
Then it was gone.
A huge black locomotive
Crashed through the building
Then the swampy bats of normality
Dragged me away.

Oh yes, I was king of the art school
Without any clothes
I looked into a looking glass
At the tea party in the greenhouse on the rooftop
At the top of the winding square staircase
Where I went to dream and to sketch
Where I looked deep into the cracked seam
Of my little blue university sketchbook
At the light fish that swam under the rooftop
It was a night that I had ever seen before
Exploding with the imagination of primary colours

When I looked again
It was the termination of the decade
The slaughter of the innocents between the coaches
Under a rain of arrows from the medieval archers of the new masters

Hey man I was the king of the art school
It was the book of genesis made real
Amongst the Victorian architecture in Goodall Street
It blew my mind man; I was sawdust in a fire
I rose from the ocean like a dead swan and I flapped my wings and flew
It was a magical art school place, a workplace of love
Then the evil of men’s hearts came for me
I was The Lord of the Rings unfinished
Death pointed the way to the grave
And Satan laid down the kindling wood

Nothing made sense
People were fighting
The school was filled with witchcraft
And teachers ate babies

Free the art school, free the art school
I cried at Botticelli’s muses in the market
While the princess sobbed
And like Van Gogh’s bird’s she dipped her wings into the fire

Love goodness where ever you find it
Drink down its memory
So then as you walk the giant’s road
You may have life

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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