Artful Bodies, Artless Minds

In the vast web's tangled weave, where art and vice play hide and seek,

Lies a tale of twisted norms, of pixels' power, and ethics meek.

For here, the grandeur of the past, with Venus rising, pure and fair,

Meets the iron fist of censors, with nothing but her nudity to wear.

 

"Protect the eyes!" the guardians cry, from beauty bare and forms divine,

While Botticelli's Venus, in digital chains, must modestly resign.

Yet, in the shadows lurk, with unchecked zeal, the vermin of the net,

Whispering sweet nothings, where the web's dark corners are firmly set.

 

Oh, irony of ironies, where art is shamed and vice gets free rein,

Where Venus is veiled, and predators, in plain sight, remain.

"Art's not for viewing!" the censors declare, with a puritanical hiss,

But whisper, "Carry on," to the creep, with a virtual wink and a miss.

 

So here we stand, in the digital age, where wisdom oft departs,

Facing a paradox, wrapped in code, pulling at our hearts.

For in the quest to cleanse the web, priorities have gone astray,

Art is muted, vice is not; what a splendid disarray!

 

Let's toast the guardians of the net, with their skewed, noble fight,

Shielding us from beauty's blush, while darkness prowls the night.

For in their wisdom, so profound, they've chosen an odd hill to die,

Where art is suspect, and the true threat, casually saunters by.

 

© Susie Stiles-Wolf