I really enjoy squeezing out a big lump of paint directly onto the canvas and leaving it; fresh, immediate and sometimes shocking.
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Culture Shock Thru Auto-Flash Toilet
culture shock
basically not from
shocking culture
for there is no
culture which is
literally shocking
it is just peculiar
unfit to ones
foreign test
this ''shocking'' thoughts
has popped up
before leaving
the censored auto-flash toilet
that's really shocking
leaving the waste unnoticed
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Canvas
Oh how she loves her canvas,
The stories that it tells.
Oh how she loves to paint her thoughts,
And etch a perfect spell.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
The memories that it holds.
Oh how she loves to trace the lines,
And tell if new or old.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
Her stability in an unstable world.
Oh how she loves to fret away,
At all of her unfurled.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
A standstill of art and truth.
Oh how she loves the feel of it,
To reminisce her youth.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
A long work of her life.
Oh how she loves the twisted colors,
Splashes of red upon white.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
She crafts each inch with care.
She hides her canvas well away,
Though she often earns a stare.
Do not tell of her canvas,
Keep the secret- she insists.
But perhaps some time take a second glance,
For her canvas is her wrist.
poem by Dayna Mortimore
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It's to paint directly on the canvas without any funny business, as it were, and I use almost pure turpentine to start with, adding oil as I go along until the medium becomes pure oil. I use as little oil as I can possibly help, and that's my method.
quote by Edward Hopper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Prefer To Keep It Frozen
Honesty can be that one gift received,
To be quickly unwrapped to wear.
With a daring that is flaunted.
And exposing it to everyone,
To prove a truth living within...
Exists and is shown everywhere.
Unfortunately...
Not everyone welcomes this gift to receive.
With a keeping it under wraps.
To pack away in one's attic.
Or...
Stored in one's basement.
To leave it frozen in a freezer,
With a thawing no one will ever see at all.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
Some prefer to keep frozen,
Never to thaw.
Honesty can be that one gift received,
To be quickly unwrapped to wear.
With a daring that is flaunted.
And exposing it to everyone,
To prove a truth living within...
Exists and is shown everywhere.
But,
Left corrupted...
A shocking honesty can awe.
To be abducted.
Shocking honesty can awe.
With none conducted.
A shocking honesty can awe.
And...
Leaving it to freeze,
Never to thaw.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
Some prefer to keep frozen,
Never to thaw.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pride On Canvas
While others walk,
I will run.
While others hide
on a rainy day,
I will search for
the sun.
I will paint
my pride on
canvas.
And no one will
get in my way.
My barefoot brush
on my infinite
canvas.
All my pride
directed,
Toward this
beautiful day.
poem by Plague Rose
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One of life's best coping mechanisms is to know the difference between an inconvenience and a problem. Life is inconvenient. Life is lumpy. A lump in the oatmeal, a lump in the throat and a lump in the breast are not the same kind of lump. One needs to learn the difference.
quote by Robert Fulghum
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Life is a painting! !
Coloured hues make up our life,
A role modelling brush shapes up our life,
Pure water mix our sorrows with joys,
A canvas's always there to put on your life,
A stand will always place you high in life,
A person is always beside to guide you in life,
And at last the whole world exists to look at your life....
You first paint your life on a piece of white,
you strive hard to shape your life,
but remember you always enjoy the strife you put in your life,
you first succeed when you sketch your life,
you then succeed when you paint it right,
you last succeed when you frame it bright....
Remenber a small jurk may spoil your thing,
bit of misguidance or excess of showing,
may not seem big when you ae doing,
but finally while looking,
that makes all the spoiling....
Just it is, your mistakes are not big,
when you do it,
but when life gets tougher,
mistakes look as blunders.
so strive as hard as you painted as much in life to succeed...
Good Luck! ! Go paint your life..
poem by Koushik Poolla
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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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I’m going to Paint my Best Picture Ever
As soon as I wake before my coffee
I’ll grab that canvas brush and oils
To paint a fantastic sky,
With a couple of crows squawking in the blue
Then a mountain with snow on it top
An’ the sun shining on it
With a little road at the bottom,
Now for a bus stop with a little boy waiting
With his dog on a lead, then a little puddle
For boys love to jump in em’.
Just finished lots of black and white cows
Feeding in this huge green paddock,
With horses frolicking fresh from the stables
Running and kicking chasing, hope I get it right
Better paint a fence near the road an’ add a few sheep.
Now let me see ah....Trees lot of trees green as green
To the left and to the right with birds flying all around,
Oh in the distance near the foot of the mountain
I’ll paint the school bus coming down the road
That boy has been waiting for ages.
I think that’s it, oh I’ll add a couple of butterflies,
No flowers its winters end and
They are still pushing up underground.
Now let’s look at this picture and see
What the mind can see.
poem by Ken e Hall
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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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Gravitational thoughts
I sometimes wonder how all these things, you know
The trees the houses the cars our own feet
How they remain fixed to the surface - somehow
Gravitational 9.83 or 9.87 I really forgot
And I know have heard it's sort of relative
Doesn't have to be that way at all
Still it's amazing
The way everything's glued
The way I stick my words on a piece of paper or a screen
The way a painter glues paint onto a canvas
The way we stick to some people
Or just their faces whatever
It's amazing
This magic need for leaving traces
Some of them like trenches for the lost soldiers
And their hunting dogs
Some like a benevolent need
For leaving embryo through blueprints
To touch the sky
And I can't help thinking
What happens when this thing comes to
Let's say seven and a center decenters
Is it good or bad
Or even a seven blade swords
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The age of image.
The people who know you
Are the canvas on which
Your image, good or bad,
Is drawn rightly or not.
Mind! The image you built
Will die with the canvas
When it’s torn or worn out.
Yet, each one wants an image.
Don't we desire leaving
A child for our copy,
which will not last long though?
02.01.2009.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Enough Just To Know!
what is change?
a radical move to
the right or left?
a leaving of the past,
and all its baggage?
a fresh coat of paint?
a new lover?
the death of a friend?
seasons pass to seasons,
and then return...
changing, or evolving?
maybe an endless cycle!
where are we going?
do we know?
do we have to go?
will it be better or worse
when we arrive?
what are we looking for?
are we the picture,
or the paint not yet dry?
whose hand holds the brush?
and who is the painting for?
is it change we seek for?
or a return to something long forgotten?
must we create again and anew?
or is something there that we have lost?
does the wind know or care
where it came from,
and where it is going?
or is it enough just to know,
just to be, the wind?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Array And Plethora
An array and plethora,
Of love...
Is too diverse for me.
I like it,
Directly!
An array and plethora,
Of love...
Is too diverse for me.
I need it,
More directly!
I want to know that which is given,
Has no loopholes I could miss.
I want to know my feelings felt,
Aren't pushed aside to dust on shelves.
An array and plethora,
Of love...
Is too diverse for me.
I like it,
Directly!
When I'm wrapped in a hug,
And my lips are kissed...
I like it,
Directly!
When I see eyes on me melt with mist.
I like this...
Directly!
I like to know that which is given,
Has no loopholes I could miss.
Oh,
I like it more directly.
I like to know that which is given,
Has no loopholes I could miss.
And...
I like it more directly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ricky & G-child
Ricky: say man, how many lumps do you want?
- whatchou mean how many lumps i want?
G-child: say man, i'm gonna lump you right upside your funk. man!
Ricky: you lump me, i'ma lump yo ass right back.
- man, well you better do yo thing then, cause i'm bringin' the real.
song performed by by Warren G
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ricky G-child
Ricky: say man, how many lumps do you want?
- whatchou mean how many lumps I want?
G-child: say man, Im gonna lump you right upside your funk. man!
Ricky: you lump me, ima lump yo ass right back.
- man, well you better do yo thing then, cause Im bringin the real.
song performed by by Warren G
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Only Paint The Picture Once
(Teddy Gentry/Randy Owen/Ronnie Rogers/Greg Fowler)
Look at those evening shadows
Casting a peaceful light
The sun is disappearing
It's a beautiful sight
Moments caught forever
By the master's touch
A lasting reminder
To us
You only paint the picture once
(And) you only get one chance
Take the time to do your best
While the brush is in your hand
Make sure it's just right
Before the colors dry
You can't change it once it's done
You only paint the picture once
Love is the canvas
That's where it all starts
A lifetime together
Becomes a work of art
Just look what's been created
Between your heart and mine
Oh I believe that we're one of a kind
You only paint the picture once
(And) you only get one chance
Take the time to do your best
While the brush is in your hand
Make sure it's just right
Before the colors dry
You can't change it once it's done
You only paint the picture once
It's a portrait of life
You can't live it twice
You only paint the picture once
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Our Father
We all can paint on a canvas,
Whether it be great or small.
What we do is a masterpiece,
To our Father who loves it all.
If we believe our work is not good,
Then our mind is going to the Fall.
But we can be changed,
Through our Father who loves us all.
That change cannot be done alone,
For help, to our Father we must all.
Trying to explain the truth is hard,
But not to our Father who knows it all.
We are all part of His canvas,
We may not see it, but we are very tall.
We are the greatest buried treasure
For our Father who gets us all.
poem by Stephanie Varnadore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For The First Time
That deep inner beauty which I thought only I could see
Now has somehow turned inside out, the canvas dazzling me
Revealing that most shocking and truly brilliant display
Sending me reeling and kneeling, taking my breath away
Causing me to ponder if I ever really saw you before
All I know is what I see makes me want you even more
poem by Paul H Nelson
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On Two Ministers of State
Lump says that Caliban's of gutter breed,
And Caliban says Lump's a fool indeed,
And Caliban and Lump and I are all agreed.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
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