Nudes are the greatest to paint. Everything you can find in a landscape or a still life or anything else is there: darkness and light, character dimension, texture. I painted heads too, of course.
quote by John Hurt
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rembrandt's Darkness, Rembrandt's Light
Here’s a painting by Rembrandt van Rijn –
mark how he bestows the light…
the light of Rembrandt’s conscious painted scenes
falls where consciousness itself shines strongest:
here on a thinking head, deep
in contemplation of the truth invisible;
here on a melting heart; there,
on a pregnant belly full of life;
on this marriage bed, her body
dissolves into the light of love;
here, the golden helmet and the breastplate
say, heroism has descended on mere man.
But mark, too, that other miracle:
see in this corner, the area of black paint:
this is not darkness; not negation of the light;
this is what cannot comprehend the light;
this is the darkness of the unmanifest,
from which all miracles shall in time arise:
this is the black paint stroked on the canvas
by the same dazzling intelligence
which was Rembrandt; the light
yet stored in darkness; what would that light
of things seen, be, without the mind
that understood and marked the not yet lit?
The secret of that darkness fills
with a brightness that's more beautiful than beauty,
the mind that knows to shut its mortal eyes.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paint Me Down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im walking into studio
Consider strange appeal
Paint me in the home
Im brushing up on sketchbook
Designs for love unreal
Paint me in the home
Oil and skin youll need to buy it
Consider what I mean
She sinks beneath thr moving pictures
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im soaking up the surface
Conceaiving new idea
Paint me in the home
Shes oiling up her subject
But all still life is here
Paint me in the home
All the boys with framed dimension
A cover up on lust
Hell take his pain and paint it over
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paint It
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they are painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens every day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and its heading into black
Maybe then Ill fade away and not have to face the facts
Its not easy facing up when your whole world is black
I wanna see it painted painted, painted black, oh baby
I wanna see it painted painted, painted black, oh baby
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes
I wanna see it painted, painted black, oh
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted from the sky
Painted, painted, painted black oh baby
Painted painted, painted black
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark and Light
Darkness and Light
Too different to be friends
Too much chaos to find the ends
Darkness chases off the Light
In return Light brings a fight
Darkness hides all your fears
Where no one can see the tears
Light brings hope and better life
Cutting Darkness with a knife
In the Light, my body you will find
While in Darkness resides my mind
Dream Images
if I painted pictures
I would paint dream images
I would paint visions of inner mind's eye
I would paint life in veils swirling kaleidoscopic moods
I would paint canvasses imprinting fabric expanding universes
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I like to paint nudes mostly.
quote by Cleo Moore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paint It Black
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and theyre all painted black
With flowers and my love, both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a newborn baby it just happens evryday
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then Ill fade away and not have to face the facts
Its not easy facing up when your whole world is black
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not forsee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Hmm, hmm, hmm...
I wanna see it painted black, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun, blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
Yeah
song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paint Dimensionality Soul In Oils
if I painted pictures
I would draw you in charcoal
wash away drama tears in watercolours
paint dimensionality of durability soul in oils
span a universe of senses touch emotions thoughts
if I painted pictures
I would paint dream images
I would paint visions of inner mind's eye
I would paint life in veils swirling kaleidoscopic moods
I would paint canvasses imprinting fabric expanding universes
but I travel eons far
load canvasses are too heavy
I walk journey through many phase worlds
seasons landscapes in many climates beckon bled feet
I paint mind songs in words life haunting edges spaces
swallow flame words into soul at own risk
I paint distances between seen unseen at world's edges
I paint portraits above beneath mask as multi veils
I paint shift faces figures skin deeds intended done deeds
I paint poetry life in shifting kaleidoscopic images souls
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Transformation Of A Pornographic Perspective....
i am watching
nudes,
i feel the heat
that is normal
perhaps
too many times
i am watching nudes
sort of an addiction
on this fertile
imagination
and then
i learn to feel
the hardness and brittleness
of skulls and bones
soon i hear the dragging sounds
of iron chains
i am watching nudes
now in a different perspective
once young, and beautiful
soon
rotten, and ugly
and exactly pure and
true.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paint It Black
I see a red door and I want it painted black,
No colors anymore I want them to turn black.
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes,
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes.
I see a line of cars and they're all painted black,
With flowers and my love, both never to come back.
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away,
Like a new born baby it just happens ev'ry day.
I look inside myself and see my heart is black,
I see my red door and I want it painted black.
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts,
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black.
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue,
I could not forsee this thing happening to you.
If I look hard enough into the setting sun,
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes.
I see a red door and I want it painted black,
No colors anymore I want them to turn black.
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes,
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes.
I wanna see your face painted black, black as night.
Don't wanna see the sun flyin' high in the sky.
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black, yeah!
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Am I a master
I am the master, master of art
have painted true pictures,
of rising sun, mountain, sea
through jungles flowing rivers,
shining stars, birds, cloudy sky,
can paint anything and everything.
insects, lions, bear and deer.
just like the living things.
I am the master, master of art,
can make my own paint and brush
Alas! but cannot create raw material
of any of paint, brush or canvas.
Oh! can not paint these seven
which are made only in heaven:
smell, touch, look, hear and taste,
emotions, thought and breathe.
No, I am not the master, master of art
can paint uncountable things yet not.
Not possible to paint love and laugh
I have to go again and again to learn
to the supreme master, who painted
the universe, stars, moon and sun
(C) S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And Here Comes Dark
It's dark outside
But I see the light
Then darkness
I see the light again
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I am lonely and sad
But I see the light
You ask my name
Then darkness
You take my hand
I see the light again
We fall in love
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I can't find you
But I see the light
You were right there
Then darkness
I have my doubts
I see the light again
You say I'm wrong
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I reach for you
But I see the light
You don't reach for me
Then darkness
I feel alone
I see the light again
I read your face
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I want to leave
But I see the light
You're come to me
Then darkness
I feel your grip
I see the light
You're hurting me
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I try to scream
But I see the light
You have my throat
Then darkness
I can not breath
I see the light
For the last time
And here comes dark
poem by Yasmin Rubayo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I search for the realness, the real feeling of a subject, all the texture around it... I always want to see the third dimension of something... I want to come alive with the object.
quote by Andrew Wyeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Light.
Light me a light any kind of light,
Just shine its beam into my darkest night,
For like a child I stay up in fright,
So light me a light any light tonight.
Candlelight, moonlight any light is just right,
For in that light I might find my might!
Don’t sing me a song, don’t hold me tight,
Just light me a light, any light tonight.
Light me a light to assist my sight,
Just my naked eye darkness cannot fight,
So before darkness gets a chance to bite,
Light me a light any kind of light.
Flickering, glaring or outright bright,
I don’t care what kind just light me a light,
All I need is darkness away tonight,
So light me a light any kind of light.
poem by Barak Al'Mondia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hope
an angel a bridge
of heart
Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness
Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness
Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness
Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness
Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness
a light
of humanity tree
0021 Under the bridge of time
Oui, c'est beaux, le jardin... at this time of year;
mais... for myself,
a little too overgrown – but Monsieur
prefers it that way… you see him down there
by the lily pond, the nymphées?
He’s nearly blind now, yet he’s out all day
and nearly every day. He draws life from the garden,
je crois; and though there are some who laugh
and say, his paintings are now
mere daubs, when I see them
and then go out into the garden,
there’s a truth there, beyond what we see…
what passes, what floats serene and unaffected...
what floats on time itself...
You may find this fanciful, but I’ve watched Monsieur
over the years: first he had the garden made,
when he could afford it, and the bridge and then the pool
that slows the river… then he painted the lilies which we planted,
floating on the water, all the colours
of sunshine as you see it through a prism…then he painted
the sunlight on the water… then
he seemed to paint the flow of the water
as it passed… and then he seemed to be painting
time itself, passing under the bridge
where we’re standing here, as if
outside time… and now,
qu’est-ce qu’on dit? I think
he’s painting the philosophy of time –
Monsieur Bergson le philosophe
agrees with me – in paint; perhaps
one might say, painting
the future of painting…
yet, the flow of time and death came first, they say:
Monsieur began to paint his water-lilies
after he had seen the photos of the solemn river
of corpses in the trenches
in that terrible war; even, it's said,
the same colours of the unburied dead who putrify
are the same colours that he sees
in the water-lilies...c'est étrange, n'est-ce-pas?
a sort of redemption in the painter's palette...
this, I feel, gives these pretty paintings
the vision that drives Monsieur
to find beauty in its opposite...
but it’s cooling now; Monsieur
likes to enjoy that glowing light of early evening,
the precious departing of the light…
the light of life itself...
I’ll fetch his rug…these artists seem to
lose themselves in what they see…
they don’t seem to notice passing time,
it’s as if they think they live where time is space;
or perhaps, time’s so precious for Monsieur
that he paints it running out…
but I mustn’t keep you, M’sieur Proust –
it was so kind of you to find the time
to visit, and you too, M’sieur Debussy –
it has been quite a day to remember, n’est-ce pas? …
and now for Monsieur’s rug…
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Darkness Of...
Darkness is not the darkness of night
it is the darkness of mind and soul.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of discrimination between poor and rich.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of dishonesty.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of aggravate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is darkness of corruption.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of indiscipline.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of animosity.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of inveterate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of perjury.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness that we all brought up inside us,
so, light the lamp of light inside you...
poem by Suniya Garg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A painter
A painter on study
sketched two nudes
In canvass, a nude
Man & woman
The man in hard
Solid lines his torso
His thighs his legs
Well chiseled by
The dark colors
Of his brush, and
The woman in
Smooth lines, her
Fragile hands, her
Soft breasts, her
Thin lines in light
Feminine colors,
He so admired
His nude creations,
And he stared
At the magic
He just painted,
And tired for
Hours, he just
Blinked a while
Wanting a little
Slip, he faltered,
He blinked and
Winked for a second,
Surprised, only to
Find out that the two
Are suddenly missing
not looking for food
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Painted the Tree I'm Looking For
Your eyes are love
Their holding on to me
I need a big paper so
I can paint them alive
You painted the tree I’m looking for…
Every night I go to sleep
I want to taste your smile
So that my blood starts to boil
I fall asleep in warm dreams
You painted the tree I’m looking for…
I’m stuck here in prison
It’s really really cold
But your voice embraces me
Keeps me from my illness
You painted the tree I’m looking for…
…You painted the tree I need for living
poem by Ilme SonCries
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Ode to Music
An Ode to Music
You don't words to touch my soul,
You don't words to bring light into my life,
You don't words to paint a picture,
You don't words to make me think of home.
You are a great leveller talking to kings and paupers alike,
You give people identity,
You can unite us,
You can give us hope.
You are as old as humanity itself,
You are always evolving with us,
You can show us our past,
You can show us our future.
You can inspire us to dream,
You can change the future,
You document our lives,
You can drive darkness out of our hearts.
You are a great force for good,
You can help liberate people,
You are mankind's greatest gift,
You could bring unity to mankind if we just listened to you.
You are perhaps my greatest love,
You are there for every occasion,
You are there for the happy times,
You are there for the great tragedies of life.
You can define time and eras,
You can define a man's life like nothing else,
You are the life-blood of me,
You are like the alpha and omega there at the beginning and at the end.
By Christopher Tye
poem by Christopher Tye
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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