When I have a terrible need of - shall I say the word - religion. Then I go out and paint the stars.
quote by Vincent Van Gogh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Starry Night
That does not keep me from having a terrible need of — shall I say the word — religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars. — Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brother
The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry night! This is how
I want to die.
It moves. They are all alive.
Even the moon bulges in its orange irons
to push children, like a god, from its eye.
The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die:
into that rushing beast of the night,
sucked up by that great dragon, to split
from my life with no flag,
no belly,
no cry.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Paint The Sky With Stars
Suddenly before my eyes
Hues of indigo rise
With them how my spirit sighs
Paint the sky with stars
Only night will ever know
Why the heavens never show
All the dreams there are to know
Paint the sky with stars
Who has paced the mightnight sky
So a spirit has to fly
As the heavens seem so far
Now who will paint the midnight star?
Night has brought to those who sleep
Only dreams they cannot keep
I have legends in the deep
Paint the sky with stars
Who has paced the midnight sky
So a spirit has to fly
As the heaven seem so far
Now who will paint the midnight star?
Place a name upon the night
One to set your heart alight
And to make the darkness bright
Paint the sky with stars
song performed by by Enya
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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Wasteland
Out into the wasteland
Out into the wasteland
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
No religion
Emissionary man amongst the heathen
Cant you see a modern primitive
I came back, Im gonna find,
Im gonna give religion
When there was, no religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
Theres a man in need of resurrection
(no religion)
Cant you see a modern primitive
(no religion)
But Im a man I need my love and
Freedom (no religion)
When there was no freedom at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
In vr land
The future of fun
Tell me what to do
In vr law
Computer crime
Um, so sublime
A fantasy scene
In my machine
Give me secret of life
Let me know, yeah, what I am
And you know that I could get
Outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
So far from the the deadland
Ow, Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion yeah
Im outta the wasteland
So far from the the deadland
Yeah, Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion at all
No religion at all
No religion
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The Stars
let the stars
rule over me
let them
give me
my destiny
let the zodiac
unfold
my days
let them
i have no more
i have no word
left
for my own world
i look at the lines of my palms searching for myself
let the stars
tell me now, who am i
finally on the day when i am no longer what i have known myself to be
let the stars tell me my name
let the stars bury me in the place where the stars choose me
let my world be the world owned by these stars
i have no word
i have nothing left for myself
yes, let these stars comfort me let all things come without my calling
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paint my eyes in flowers
paint my hands in dragons
paint my back in windings
paint my arms in lightening
paint my neck in anks
my forehead intricate lines
paint my shoulder butterflies
paint my heart in henna
in henna of red in henna of black
body paint my heart
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ditch The Religion
Ditch religion and come to Christ, the Only Way to Eternal Life,
God’s single Way, for all men, is that they must be Born Again,
From the words of The Creator, Who is both Judge and Savior,
Who desires all men to be saved, upon the path He has paved.
God’s path is narrow, not wide, and in His Word we must abide,
It is the Lord’s Word alone, that comes from His Eternal Throne,
With great Power and Authority, over each man’s eternal destiny,
God’s Authority not that of man, which provides salvation’s plan.
In Christ alone, we have salvation, without man adding revelation,
Things not revealed by God at all, but sadly tainted by man’s fall,
Added instruction and men’s rules, commands by religious fools,
Men whose religion is their god, not led by Christ’s staff and rod.
Christ is the Author of Salvation, the Living Word and Revelation,
God’s final Revelation revealed to us, in His Son, our Lord Jesus,
For religion God does not need, as it’s His Word men must heed,
God’s Word, revealed to everyone, fulfilled, in God’s Eternal Son.
Religion is lost man’s way to God, but God saved us on this sod,
Through just one perfect sacrifice, Christ, who paid sin’s full price,
Our religious works were diminished, as Christ said “it is finished.”
Completing salvation for every man, as one accepts His only plan.
Paint body art beautiful
her majesty the hand
with nail graffiti polish
pain in henna red
paint in henna black
paint paint my heart
paint body art faithful
faithful to the strokes
paint in strokes divine
paint in strokes of red
paint in strokes of black
paint paint my heart
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paint The World
It's like a chain reaction
Misunderstanding every word
It's like a train to nowhere
And everyone gets hurt
And maybe if I paint the world.. black
And maybe if I paint the world.. white
Cause you don't seem to see it quite like I do
And we don't seem to see it eye to eye
We never go the distance
We just [..] in the dirt
And I could say I'm sorry
But I want you to say it first
And maybe if I paint the world.. black
And maybe if I paint the world.. white
Cause you don't seem to see it quite like I do
And we don't seem to see it eye to eye
This is so stupid
This is all so lame
This is so stupid
Playing these games
Everything is unfocused
Everything is stained
This is so stupid
Playing these games
Well I could learn to fake it
And you could learn to bruise
And maybe we can make it
But then it's easier to lose
And maybe if I paint the world.. black
And maybe if I paint the world.. white
Cause you don't seem to see it quite like I do
And we don't seem to see it eye to eye
This is so stupid
This is all so lame
This is so stupid
Playing these games
Everything is unfocused
Everything's in pain
This is so stupid
Maybe if I paint the world.. black
And maybe if I paint the world.. white
Cause you don't seem to feel it quite like I do
And we don't seem to see it eye to eye
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peace, Little Girl, Peace.
The poor young girl
with beach blonde hair
and pale white skin
stands in the middle of the street,
in the middle of a war.
Her face shows pain,
her face shows she wants help.
She goes to the hardware store
and steals a can of purple paint.
She doesn't know better,
so it doesn't matter.
The pale girl opens the can of purple paint
and uses her hands to write a message on the
big brick building wall.
She uses what knowledge she has of spelling,
and traces her purple paint covered fingers
over the wall.
First she draws a P
than an E
than she dips her hand back in the paint.
When she is done with the word,
the purple paint has run down the wall,
but you could still see the word very clearly.
It spelled PEACE.
The young girl takes her hand and presses it to the wall
leaving a very small purple handprint.
Then she runs.
A soldier calls after her,
'Peace little girl, Peace! '
The Signboard
I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
And hang it above your door;
A truer and better signboard
Than ever you had before.
I will paint with the skill of a master,
And many shall pause to see
This wonderful piece of painting,
So like the reality.
I will paint yourself, rumseller,
As you wait for that fair young boy,
Just in the morning of manhood,
A mother’s pride and joy.
He has no thought of stopping,
But you greet him with a smile
And you seem so blithe and friendly,
That he pauses a chat awhile.
I will paint you again, rumseller,
I will paint you as you stand,
With a foaming glass of liquor
Extended in your hand.
He wavers, but you urge him –
Drink, pledge me just this one!
And he takes the glass and drains it,
And the hellish work is done.
And next I will paint a drunkard –
Only a year has flown,
But into that loathesome creature
The fair young boy has grown.
The work was sure and rapid.
I will paint him as he lies
In a torpid, drunken slumber,
Under the wintry skies.
I will paint the form of the mother
As she kneels at her darling’s side,
Her beautiful boy that was dearer
Than all the world beside.
I will paint the shape of a coffin
Labelled with one word – ‘Lost’
I will paint all this, rumseller,
And will paint it free of cost.
The sin and the shame and the sorrow,
The crime and the want and the woe
That are born there in your workshop,
No hand can paint, you know
But I’ll paint you a sign, rumseller,
And many shall pause to view
This wonderful swinging signboard,
So terribly, fearfully true.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sign-Board
I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
And hang it above your door;
A truer and better signboard
Than ever you had before.
I will paint with the skill of a master,
And many shall pause to see
This wonderful piece of painting,
So like the reality.
I will paint yourself, rumseller,
As you wait for that fair young boy,
Just in the morning of manhood,
A mother's pride and joy.
He has no thought of stopping,
But you greet him with a smile,
And you seem so blithe and friendly,
That he pauses to chat awhile.
I will paint you again, rumseller,
I will paint you as you stand,
With a foaming glass of liquor
Extended in your hand.
He wavers, but you urge him-
Drink, pledge me just this one!
And he takes the glass and drains it,
And the hellish work is done.
And next I will paint a drunkard-
Only a year has flown,
But into that loathsome creature
The fair young boy has grown.
The work was sure and rapid.
I will paint him as he lies
In a torpid, drunken slumber,
Under the wintry skies.
I will paint the form of the mother
As she kneels at her darling's side,
Her beautiful boy that was dearer
Than all the world beside.
I will paint the shape of a coffin,
Labeled with one word-'lost,'
I will paint all this, rumseller,
And will paint it free of cost.
The sin and the shame and the sorrow,
The crime and the want and the woe
That are born there in your workshop,
No hand can paint, you know.
But I'll paint you a sign, rumseller,
And many shall pause to view
This wonderful swinging signboard,
So terribly, fearfully true.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today... 'The Word
Word of love and the Word made flesh
Word incarnate forever blessed
Word of life and the Word of light
Word of power and Word of might.
Word that was spoken, Word of the Lord
Word of the Law and the Word of God
Word of peace and Word eternal
Word of truth and last Word of all.
Word of wisdom and the Word of healing
Word from heaven, a Word so appealing
Word fulfilling the Word of prophecy
Word of the Spirit and Word of destiny.
Word of exhortation and Word of grace
Word of encouragement and Word of faith
Word of promise and a Word of insight
Word from the beginning and Word of delight.
Word of knowledge and a Word of boldness
Word of peace and the Word of righteousness
Word of the covenant and Word of love
Word of the Father from heaven above.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
Sonnet: Whither Thy Art, Man?
Yes, men and women, paint their eyelashes,
And dye their hair in hues and paint their nails;
And wear head-bands, multi-colored sashes,
And paint the tortoises and shells of snails.
Some paint their bodies fully or one-half;
Some paint their country’s flag over their face;
Some look like leopards, lions, clowns that laugh;
Some tattoo pictures or paint words so base.
Some paint their naked bodies as if dressed
Or apply stickers of men, Gods or beast;
Their art on human skins looks to them best
And dance in ritual for a sumptuous feast.
The art of man has gone so crazy now,
For men paint Dogs, cats, cattle, also cow.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Religion
Religion is just a vehicle to God, prevalent upon this earth we trod.
But one must step outside religion, to make a true eternal decision.
Religion is just what men believe, out of what their minds conceive.
Preconceived in man’s tradition, as they create a cultural rendition.
Renditions God wouldn’t conceive, from men who say they believe.
Religion adds to God’s Holy Word, from others who have also erred.
It changes for the culture of men, which God Himself has condemned.
And Truths they don’t want heard, they simply remove from His Word.
This causes many men much grief, while other men fall into unbelief.
All who change God’s Holy Bible, will before God be eternally liable.
Man’s first attempt at a religion, was changed by God to pure derision.
Their vain attempt to reach the sky, was derailed by The God on high.
The God they sought was not amused, so their language He confused.
He turned their order into rabble, turning their speech into utter babble.
Today that spirit from Babel’s Tower, is present in men this very hour.
Friend, Religion is that spirit’s name, and the result will be the same.
In the end men shall fall away, as they add error to God’s narrow way.
God will pour a strong delusion, on men who seek a religious solution.
Men who add man’s deduction, will ultimately see eternal destruction.
For God had said the deceptive heart, from Christ will eternally depart.
Religion will continue to change, but God’s Word remains the same.
The Lord has but one Eternal Plan, fully centered on The Son of Man.
Man attempts to reach God from earth, is a belief built upon self worth.
But God has reached man on earth, through His Spirit and New Birth.
Christ Himself died once for all sin, doing away with a need of religion.
(Copyright ©04/2005)
Paint
Don't paint me red,
Red is for bold women that use cheap scent
Don't paint me blue
Blue is for sadness and regret
Don't paint me green
Green is for envy and not to be seen
Don't paint me black
black is for the night and I love the light
Don't paint me white
White is for virgins and me, I love a flirtin'
Don't paint me orange
Orange is vile and I have some style
Don't paint me brown or grey or cream
these colours are boring and really not me.
Paint me in silver, platinum or gold
so I remain precious as I grow old.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Word
Find the word, understand the word,
Depend on the word;
The word is heaven and space, the word the earth,
The word the universe.
The word is in our ears, the word is on our tongues,
The word the idol.
The word is the holy book, the word is harmony,
The word is music.
The word is magic, the word the Guru.
The word is the body, the word is the spirit, the word is being,
The word Not-being.
The word is man, the word is woman,
The Worshipped Great.
The word is the seen and unseen, the word is the existent
And the non-existent.
Know the word, says Kabir,
The word is All-powerful.
The Galaxies
the galaxies drift
the stars are swimming in the ocean
of space
it is dark but all the planets are feeling confident
there are laws to follow
there will be no collisions
the big bang was so terrible
some stars explode
on the other hand another galaxy is born
somewhere in space
all these
meteors and stars and earths
paradise
in random chaos
we must all know
is still the best poem
ever
you see? the stars over there
they are twinkling
they agree and do not question
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lust for Perfection! ! ! ! ! !
Enraptured by the mystic starry sky
Vincent so desperately wanted to try,
To paint this enchanting twilight scene,
But how, Colours in that light couldn’t be seen.
He longed to paint on the spot at night,
What he saw, as he saw without artificial light.
‘Night is more richly coloured than day
Putting little white dots on a black surface, no way'
Struck by brilliance of stars on closer attention
And his zest and lust and passion for perfection,
A legend goes in rural areas of south of France,
He put candles in the felt hat to capture and paint.
Thus the locals gave him a name, illumine
French word meaning lit up and delusive.
Couldn’t care less, night to be painted on the spot
Settled for a gas jet after pondering a lot
The painting depicts a religious motif of youth.
To assuage his thirst for the Absolute
‘I just paint nature as it seems to me, complete
All we have to do is unravel the mystery…’
A tribute to Vincent Van Gogh, Impressionist painter, best known for Sun Flowers.
Starry Night is a fascinating work, as is his passion.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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