Conundrum of a Cloud

Okay, so this poem isn't that great, but it has a real meaning to me. People think I'm a good artist, but the truth is I am not. Whether the medium is words or graphite or paint, I can only ever make decent art when my mind goes to a particular place that I can never get it to by sheer will. It's really annoying. Honestly, no matter how I try, that wolf I painted on that reversible coffin for Walker's class not only could I never ever replicate, but I couldn't paint anything that decent right now. I couldn't sculpt like I made that iguana, I could not envision a Model-T in a box of pencils. This frustration came to a head last night when I watched Hugo. That movie was the most AMAZING piece of art...my mind totally went to that place, like, extreme. But when I tried to draw, I couldn't hold on to anything. See, when I do create a good sketch, or make something people think is "good", it's only ever a crude replication of something that's already there. I can't REALLY create anything, like the stuff in Hugo. While I can only roughly mimic the beauty of the world around me, there are others in the world that can do so much more. I love/hate those people!! I couldn't even hold on to one vision to replicate after watching that movie though. It was really frustrating. Soooooo I turned my symbol of a "cloud" from class into a poem about all this. Yay! Here goes!


Mimicry is the 
Most sincere form of flattery,
They tell me - 
Just look up, see
That celestial ballerina
Extend her cotton arm o'ertop the 
Ethereal silhouette of a mushroom?
Look, how effortlessly she skims and flits 
Across the undulating topside of a crocodile,
Morphing west as impatient winds
Cause 't to give chase to migrating geese!


Is that all?
I reply. Their semblances are crude
at best.
No matter the dreams 
Forged within the endless billows of white
and grey, 
A cloud can amount to nothing
but rain.
And even less, I confess,
Without the true artists' visions
Who alone may aspire to more
than mere mimicry.