The surface of American society is covered with a layer of democratic paint, but from time to time one can see the old aristocratic colours breaking through.
quote by Alexis de Tocqueville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It does not seem that the contradiction which exists between the aristocratic function of art and the democratic structure of modern society can ever be resolved.
quote by Herbert Read
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wet Paint Is A Potential Miracle Cure?
Paint that is wet. Whatever.
But how can I best paint
any surface without leaving
thick ugly brushstrokes?
How can I best protect
beautify a surface in
multiple clear colours?
The fastest cheapest
utilization of time
resources would be?
A traditional wet painting
surface treatment method
to swiftly spray on pigment.
In any chosen colour
in a water based
or solvent based paint.
Onto a metal or non-metal
surface component
part of practically any shape.
Any professional worth their prized salt
will achieve very desirable cosmetic
appearances by employing this technique.
Rejuvenating spent living spaces
restoring to an original condition
making vigorous dynamic settings.
An architect maestro distinction famed
might bestow smooth mirror like finishes
incorporating high cosmetic appearances.
Artistic twists to accommodate many colors
frequent color interactive changes complex
shapes in thin film rendered stylish make over.
A renovator of any ability would smart use
a lick of paint to cat like perfect transform
past drab into the fab with purloined speed.
A miracle makeover bestowing pure joy to blessed
customers paying appropriate low material costs.
It is good to be an honest worker doing an honest job.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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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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Seeing a Clearer Me
layer by layer
i peel so that
like a glass
you can view me
crystal clear as a virgin river
a polished diamond
decades of
practice for those
seasoned fingers
to strike at her core
to bring out those few
beethoven scores
he tuned up the world for
a great watch maker
filing his cog to tighten time
the precision of mind
to keep a universal lie at bay
verse by verse
layer by layer
i peel to get to
the sheen the almighty
laid hidden in me
layer by layer
i peel off the world
to see a clearer me
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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My tastes are aristocratic, my actions democratic.
quote by Victor Hugo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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American foreign policy must be more than the management of crisis. It must have a great and guiding goal: to turn this time of American influence into generations of democratic peace.
George W. Bush in speech (19 November 1999)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Furor of Friendly Fire
The eye of day was closing.
It was dusk at Leyte Bay.
Twenty ships lay at anchor.
A low marine layer covered
The entire bay.
It was that time of evening
When it is difficult to discern
The difference between a wolf
and a dog, as the French say.
A Zero broke through:
Pulled back, up and out, Before
Any ship's guns could fire.
All gunner crews were taunt and tense,
Waiting.
Then, through the cover came
Another plane. This time,
A furor of fire broke loose.
It was dusk at Leyte Bay.
It was that time of evening
When it is difficult to discern
The difference between a Japanese Zero
And an American Torpedo Bomber.
Death shut the eye of day.
poem by Lynn W. Petty
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The moral and social aspiration proper to American life is, of course, the aspiration vaguely described by the word democratic; and the actual achievement of the American nation points towards an adequate and fruitful definition of the democratic ideal.
quote by Herbert Croly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunsets With A Crimson Colour
We paint our sunsets with crimson colours
a sign of a brighter day tomorrow.
We paint our earth with blues and green,
the oceans, lakes and land.
However, we paint ourselves invisible
with the use of slight of hand.
How long will we paint with colours
if we carry on the way we do.
The crimson will become a dusty brown
for the dust cloud we created.
The green will become black,
chard and empty of everything.
The waters that were blue
will run red with the dead,
polluted beyond repair,
unless we open our eyes now
and our world we start to take care.
Hopefully, then once again we can paint
our sunsets with a crimson colour.
3 September 2011
poem by David Harris
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Do not torment me with the blue
at the threshold of the colours
when you paint the morning
with the white frozen little bough
bitterly breaking my windows
in a red spilled cell
when you count my blood
in a happy yellow light
that even more witnesses the pain
in a night black left ajar
when you open my tear
in all the colours
when you tell me
the rainbow has been made for someone else
do not torment me with the blue
there's nothing royal in me
I can't take it anymore
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Paint Brush
We forget
We’re humans in disguise
We lust for angels
We lust for demons
We cannot exorcise the human inside.
We paint a layer of lies
No water can wash it off
Human doesn’t let paint spread
In the end humans peel paint off.
Some are left buried
With paint left unpeeled
The paint dries away
But human never dehydrates.
We may paint on thorns,
But flowers we remain inside.
poem by Mehreen Mujeeb
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At one of the annual conventions of the American Society for Aesthetics much confusion arose when the Society for Anesthetics met at the same time in the same hotel.
quote by Rudolf Arnheim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One needs to know what the hierarchy of values are from which one takes inspiration, and in a democratic society this is the subject of continuous democratic debate.
quote by Rocco Buttiglione
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Breaking The Law
There I was completely wasting, out of work and down
All inside its so frustrating as I drift from town to town
Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die
So I might as well begin to put some action in my life
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
So much for the golden future, I cant even start
Ive had every promise broken, theres anger in my heart
You dont know what its like, you dont have a clue
If you did youd find yourselves doing the same thing too
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
You dont know what its like
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember that a painting - before it is a battle horse, a nude model, or some anecdote - is essentially a flat surface covered with colours assembled in a certain order.
quote by Maurice Denis
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It was very much a cry for democratic control at that time. Above all, breaking the accomplished power of a few people to rule the lives of everybody else.
quote by Barbara Castle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I paint on a sky
The dawn is breaking its early morn
Here, I m standing on a promise
of a brand new day
for new morning comes.
for the early morning smile,
So then, I paint on a sky.
Your eyes that shine like a golden sun.
I sense the morning glory.
Those cherry blossoms
That I paint on my mind.
As I heard the morning breeze,
That plays inside of me.
The notes and melodies
Were I paint on a sky
Over there beneath the silence
I watched the sea that dance on a wave,
And then I draw a line on sand
A line that connects my soul on wind
There I can dance to the music of my own
There I can paint on a sky.
Every step that I have been through.
I belong to the wind.
To fly higher than the mountain
Fly as free as the bird.
Then, I paint on a sky.
These dreams inside my mind,
These hope that I have been holding on
These love that last for more than time.
I walked on a bridge of the rainbow
I’ll be the sun in the sky.
I’ll be the light in all time
I’ll put back the blue in the sky
And learn to see the beauty that is waiting for
So then, I paint on a sky
All the happiness that brings back in my heart.
poem by Cheryl Aldea
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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
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The removal of an electron from the surface of an atom - that is, the ionization of the atom - means a fundamental structural change in its surface layer.
quote by Johannes Stark
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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