Many of the artists who have represented Negro life have seen only the comic, ludicrous side of it, and have lacked sympathy with and appreciation for the warm big heart that dwells within such a rough exterior.
quote by Henry Ossawa Tanner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Heart Of Gold
Growing up isnt easy to do,
Especially for one who always knew,
You would always come up second best.
Is that why you have such bitterness?
The apple of your fathers eye,
And always by your brothers side.
Then a little sister came along,
And you found all the affection suddenly gone.
But underneath that cold exterior
I know youve got a heart of gold.
So aloof, so superior,
But youve got a heart of gold.
Watch out, dont get caught in the crossfire.
Watch out, shes still growing up, shes in a rage,
I guess shes reached that difficult age.
Growing up is very hard to do,
Everyone watching your every move.
Your private life always on view,
But jealously never really suited you.
But I know that
Underneath that rude exterior,
Theres got to be a heart of gold.
Underneath that hard exterior,
Is a little girl waiting to be told,
Youve got a heart of gold.
Shes got a heart of gold.
I couldnt understand your attitude.
I only wanted to take a photograph of you,
But I was shocked when I heard what you had to say.
You picked up my camera, threw it away,
I didnt really mean to ruin your day.
Now I see youve got a little girl of your own.
Little princess certainly grown,
And theres a man, hes smiling at you.
He must have been the one who always knew.
You had a heart of gold.
Underneath that rude exterior,
Youve got a heart of gold.
So aloof, so superior,
But youve got a heart of gold.
Underneath that rude exterior,
Youve got a heart of gold.
Underneath that hard exterior,
Youve got a heart of gold.
Watch her, shell give you a broadside,
But I know that inside,
She got a heart of gold.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poet wishing, watching, waiting
My life’s ludicrous lust.
A poignant perplexed poet, pondering.
Outside drones descend to dull him.
His envious egocentric eyes resting empty.
His fearful façade forever facing,
A woeful world which watches his wasting,
Only to see his exterior disintegrating,
The crumbling and scatterings of his dreams emptying,
Turning to fragments all to be wasted,
Turning to dust free of his lust.
Never to live.
Never to trust.
Never being seen.
No shining beam.
My life’s ludicrous lust.
Inside it blossoms, how I wish I could trust.
To follow my lust, all I need is trust.
poem by Paul Latham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Accept my sympathy
In all sincerity
It is a pathetic pity
I merely offer sympathy
With such velocity
This sadness born out of the blue
That decides to levy itself on you
In your fixed stillness
I sense your illness
Accept my sympathy
You lost a pet
Somebody made you upset
Accept my sympathy
You lost a friend
Your broken heart is yet to mend
Accept my sympathy
You were once abused
Possibly at times wrongly accused
Accept my sympathy
You marriage is on the rocks
You got divorced, left without a buck
Accept my sympathy
You lost a fortune
Your voice can't sing a decent tune
Accept my sympathy
You lost in love or lost your job
Or perhaps at one stage got robbed
Accept my sympathy
Your life is a mess
Everything around you depresses
Whatever the circumstances
Accept my sympathy
And if I happen to show no sympathy
Please accept my sympathy!
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sympathy In End
In all sincerity
It is a pathetic pity
I merely offer sympathy
With such velocity
This sadness born out of the blue
That decides to levy itself on you
In your fixed stillness
I sense your illness
Accept my sympathy
You lost a pet
Somebody made you upset
Accept my sympathy
You lost a friend
Your broken heart is yet to mend
Accept my sympathy
You were once abused
Possibly at times wrongly accused
Accept my sympathy
You marriage is on the rocks
You got divorced, left without a buck
Accept my sympathy
You lost a fortune
Your voice can't sing a decent tune
Accept my sympathy
You lost in love or lost your job
Or perhaps at one stage got robbed
Accept my sympathy
Your life is a mess
Everything around you depresses
Whatever the circumstances
Accept my sympathy
And if I happen to show no sympathy
Please accept my sympathy! By SARTHAK DAS
poem by Sarthak Das
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This is not to be cocky, but, I go over real well at Comic-Con. I've done quite a few Comic-Cons, and I enjoy the hell out of them. They are so much fun, and so bizarre. I've done the FX Show in Florida, Wizard-World in Chicago, Comic-Con in San Diego, Wonder-Con in San Francisco, the Comic-Con in New York, and I've done them numerous times.
quote by Kristen Bell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thanks!
Thanks for all your appreciation
I value it alot
Normally no-one cares
And they all just call me a swat
Thanks for all your appreciation
It's boosted my confidence
Poems are my passion
And stop me putting up a fence
Thanks for all your appreciation
You helped me see sense
Thank you so much
Because most people are against
Thanks for your appreciation
You're the only ones who care
I now beleive in myself
I really do, I swear
Thanks for your appreciation
It really is appreciated
And once again
Thanks to you all
For being so updated
poem by Becky Ginn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bestowers Of Transformative Vision
pathos suffering passion
ripe within bodily experience
pathos of culture artistic expression
artists the 'I give birth to'
shape shifters people creators
bestowers of transformative vision
sentence seen is life vibration alteration
passionate in artistic creation expression
enrichers of web strand seekers beholders
artists hung upon vision quests
artists hung upon life beat heart beats
artists hung upon eyes burning in soul flame
artists historical now you see them now you don’t
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Negro Woman
The sky hangs heavy tonight
Like the hair of a Negro woman.
The scars of the moon are curved
Like the wrinkles on the brow of A Negro woman.
The stars twinkle tonight
Like the glaze in a Negro woman’s eyes,
Drinking the tears set flowing by an aging hurt
Gnawing at her heart.
The earth trembles tonight
Like the quiver of a Negro woman’s eye-lids cupping
tears.
poem by Lewis Grandison Alexander
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Most comic scriptwriters are very bad. The artists are good, but the writers are so bad.
quote by Harry Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True social life is the ability to come together not only to talk about stupid and indifferent things, but also about serious things; Do it without offending, without denigrating, without laughing at their errors, but by emphasizing the positive side and, in any case, keeping the discussion in a constructive context by establishing values of sympathy and solidarity, entertainment, and not in an “all against all” chatter that undermines, destroys and dissolves the appreciation he has for others and inevitably for himself.
quote by Camelia Oprița (2012)
Submitted by Citatepedia®.ro
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I Am Channeling Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary
'I've heard that before.'
I am channeling Poe.
'You don't have to channel po' no 'mo.
I think you have been very successful.
I make a suggestion you channel some dough,
So you can pay me back the money you owe.'
You have no sympathy for artists at all,
Do you?
'Why should I have sympathy,
For somebody channeling po'?
Do you know how many people
Right outside that door,
That have painted that picture too long.
Now...
IF you can channel up some fish and grits,
I'll give you all the sympathy you want.'
Are you here to bug me or what?
'You go right ahead.
Channel up all the 'po' you want.
I aint into it.
I know a few folks,
Who are not painting those kinds of pictures.
You told me earlier
You were home alone writing! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Many individuals have, like uncut diamonds, shining qualities beneath a rough exterior.
Cognizance
Since I was cognizant about Life and Living
My contemplations took all spins and leap
Deeds took a long haul of transformations
Introspection took me to great serenity
And I reached the level of equanimity in Life.
My experience of discontent and distress
Which I presumed with ‘self-sympathy’
That’s where I went wrong in my judgment
It’s ‘self-respect’ that showed my ‘self esteem’
Turned those sympathy to empathy in Life
I am not what the world construes me to be
My ecstasy and grief are not exterior made
I perceived my inner voice and its power
I have someone inside to guide me
I am the blessed one who hears voice within.
Living beings eat, move, sleep and die
We, human beings who can think in addition
But do we think as much as we eat, move and sleep?
If we are pensive, we know how exceptional we are!
Employ this virtue, contribute to mankind and be a Man.
-vidi-
01-02-08
poem by Vidi Writes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We're comic. We're all comics. We live in a comic time. And the worse it gets the more comic we are.
quote by William Gaddis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Until An Appreciation For Integrity Comes
Those today who now cry,
Are the ones who ostracized
The truth sayers who were on their side.
The ones who saw reality as it is...
And now have no empathy to offer.
Or sympathy to give.
To live and be treated with disrespect...
And defend an honesty,
Others too dishonest disceitfully neglect.
Leaves those victimized in isolated bitterness.
Until an appreciation for integrity...
Comes to the rescue,
And interjects a closer inspection.
Thus revealing corruption at its best.
Character assassinations...
Approved by breeders,
Of greed and heartlessness.
Who are then put through a process,
That dissects them with the ultimate test!
Stripping and exposing them,
To be the leaders of denied digressiveness.
Those today who now cry,
Are the ones who ostracized
The truth sayers who were on their side.
The ones who saw reality as it is...
And now have no empathy to offer.
Or sympathy to give.
To those punished for their deeds!
The taste of their cake,
Has been heartbreakingly tarnished.
And supporters who assisted in the baking...
Turn their loyal backs away!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brooklyn Comics and Graphics Festival
such a thin line between them
- comic and graphic artists
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Being Southern and being the guy I've been all my life, I've lived more on the lighter side of life. I have a dark side, but that's not where I come from. A lot of artists like to come from that.
quote by Josh Holloway
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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White And Black
He painted a picture all white and black
because in his life all color did he lack.
He lacked the yellow of the sun each day
for the sun had never come his way.
He lacked the green of fresh green grass
for the cement of the city he couldn't get past.
He lacked the blue of the sky above
for no one had ever showed him love.
He lacked the red that the rose did give
for no roses grew where he did live.
He lacked all color from his sight.
All he knew was black and white.
The picture he painted could never tell
of how his life was a living hell.
He'd lost his sight when he was three
and the colors were a lost memory.
His sole memory was of dark and light,
night being dark, day being white.
And now he created art to define
everything that was in his mind.
But beauty came from the paint he used.
The black and white became infused
with the extracted senses of who he was,
a man filled with passion for what he does.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black And White
He painted a picture all white and black
because in his life all color did he lack.
He lacked the yellow of the sun each day
for the sun had never come his way.
He lacked the green of fresh green grass
for the cement of the city he couldn't get past.
He lacked the blue of the sky above
for no one had ever shown him love.
He lacked the red that the rose did give
for no roses grew where he did live.
He lacked all color from his sight.
All he knew was black and white.
The picture he painted could never tell
of how his life became a living hell.
He'd lost his sight when he was three
and the colors were a lost memory.
His sole memory was of dark and light,
night being dark, day being white.
And now he created art to define
everything that was in his mind.
But beauty came from the paint he used.
The black and white became infused
with the extracted senses of who he was,
a man filled with passion for what he does.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Calls Home
I see him everyday
In that blanket that he calls home
I wonder does he know
That his family theyre left alone
He says brother can you spare
Can you spare a dime
See Im down to my last dollar
And this life of mine
Said this life of mine
It gets rough at times
And I wonder does he know
Does he even care
That his familys safe at home and they wonder where
As he wanders through his life ever searchin for
A warm blanket on warm fields and he wanders on
And I wonder is he safe from the cold
Well I see he left the other day
Took his blanket that he called home
I wonder did he go for good
Or did he pass away
Well I wonder does he know
Now Im down to my last dollar
And this life of mine
It gets rough at times
It gets rough at times
And I wonder does he know
Does he even care
That times
It gets rough at times
And I wonder does he know
Does he even care
That my familys safe at home
And I wonder where
As I wander through my life
Ever searchin for
My warm blanket on fields as I wander on
And I wonder
Will I always be helped along I said i
Ill never know
Because i
Ill never go and yes, i
I wonder why
Because i
Ill never go home
Ill never come home
Oh wont you let me come home
song performed by by Candlebox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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