The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.
quote by James Joyce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The artist must be in his work as God is in creation, invisible and all-powerful; one must sense him everywhere but never see him.
quote by Gustave Flaubert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fingernails
Babies have fingernails
Children have fingernails
Teenagers have fingernails
Adults have fingernails
Senior Citizens have fingernails
Dead people have decaying fingernails
Kittens have claws
Kitties have claws
Felines have claws
Cats have claws
Seniors Catizens have claws
Dead cats have decaying claws
Hotwheels have wheels
Vespas have wheels
Slugbugs have wheels
Hummers have wheels
Oldsmobiles have wheels
Dead car parts have decaying wheels
But most importantly, I have fingernails, a cat, and a car.
poem by Gerald Flippinhanger
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The mother and the artist
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of wonderfully emollient freshness; every
unfurling instant of impregnably magnificent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of spellbindingly undefeated innocence; every
unfurling instant of symbiotically pristine existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of timelessly unconquerable truth; every unfurling
instant of bounteously magnanimous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unfathomably unfettered creativity; every
unfurling instant of timelessly burgeoning existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of royally triumphant resplendence; every
unfurling instant of unconquerably majestic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of eternally exhilarating vivaciousness; every
unfurling instant of redolently insuperable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbelievably ameliorating optimism; every
unfurling instant of marvelously benign existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of brilliantly liberated camaraderie; every
unfurling instant of iridescently inscrutable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unshakably virgin righteousness; every
unfurling instant of beautifully untainted existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of uninhibitedly heavenly frolic; every unfurling
instant of tantalizingly sensuous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of compassionately humanitarian friendship; every
unfurling instant of magically mitigating existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of miraculously everlasting freshness; every
unfurling instant of invincibly coalescing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of pricelessly ubiquitous oneness; every unfurling
instant of robustly blessed existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbreakably Omnipotent desire; every unfurling
instant of victoriously effulgent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unceasingly reinvigorating fantasy; every
unfurling minute of poignantly charismatic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of insurmountably intrepid enchantment; every
unfurling minute of rhapsodically unhindered existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Omnisciently tranquil serenity; every unfurling
instant of endlessly bestowing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of perpetually fragrant breath; every unfurling
instant of Omnipresently benevolent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Immortally ardent love; every unfurling instant
of limitlessly fructifying existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fantastically alleviating poetry; every
unfurling instant of boundlessly splendid existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fabulously effervescent tanginess; every
unfurling instant of spiritually uplifting existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unlimitedly enlightening Sunshine; every
unfurling instant of infallibly luminescent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of immaculately godly melody; every unfurling
instant of amiably melanging existence,
Because. And Only Because. A Mother is; has and shall for times immemorial
remain the Greatest Sculptor of every organism on this astoundingly
multiplying Universe; A Mother is the Greatest Artist….
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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I am Creation A Creative Force/Agent of Existence
I am creation
A creation of
existence
an agent of existence
endowed with the power to create
Though I create I'm not God
Don't Let Creators fool you
into divisive worship of themselves
God exists as eternal existence
A loving force embracing
creators and creations
all unique forms
with love alike and equal
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Creation Hath Worked Its Mastery
Creation hath worked its mastery
Into the existence we know as our own.
We are as the statue of David if he were
To claim his existence free from Michelangelo’s hand,
We are a work of perfection that has the ability to deny
Our creator, nature hath a power to paint a picture,
A picture born with the ability to deny its painter
Any right to claim its existence lay within the imagination
Of the artist.
True art takes upon a life of its own,
Its home within the heart of the observer,
Those un-reserved enough to allow the
Canvas marble to speak unto their Hearts.
poem by David Lacey
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Sonnet- Nature's The Child Of God
What grandeur creation has given Man,
And Mother Nature's marvellous secrets?
Her immense beauty describe, which Man can?
Of flora, fauna, water, sky, Sun-sets.
The Firmament's the handiwork of God,
And speaks volumes about the Creator;
The splendor of Heaven knows just the Lord,
And proves the love and pow'r of the mentor.
Why evil thoughts engenders man 'gainst God?
And misdeeds too, He does 'gainst Conscience;
Most merciful and loving is our Lord;
Yet, Man destroys Nature using his Science.
Which Mother kills her child, she loves by heart?
Which artist will destroy his labored art?
poem by John Celes
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The artist must create a spark before he can make a fire and before art is born, the artist must be ready to be consumed by the fire of his own creation.
quote by Auguste Rodin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The artist must create a spark before he can make a fire and before art is born, the artist must be ready to be consumed by the fire of his own creation.
quote by Auguste Rodin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Invisible Man
Im the invisible man,
Im the invisible man,
Incredible how you can,
See right through me,
When you hear a sound,
That you just cant place
Feel somethin move
That you just cant trace,
When something sits
On the end of your bed
Dont turn around
When you hear me tread.
Im the invisible man,
Im the invisible man
Incredible how you can
See right through me
Im the invisible man
Im the invisible man
Its criminal how I can
See right through you.
Now Im in your room
And Im in your bed
And Im in your life
And Im in your head
Like the cia
Or the fbi
Youll never get close
Never take me alive
Im the invisible man
Im the invisible man
Incredible how you can
See right through me
Im the invisible man
Im the invisible man
Its criminal how I can
See right through you,
Hah, hah, hah, hello,
Hah, hah, hah, hello,
Hah, hah, hah, hello-hello-hello-hello,
Never had a real good friend - not a boy or a girl
No-one knows what Ive been through - let my flag unfurl
So make my mark from the edge of the world,
From the edge of the world,
From the edge of the world,
Now Im on your track
And Im in your mind,
And Im on your back
But dont look behind
Im your meanest thought
Im your darkest fear
Put Ill never get caught
You cant shake me, shake me dear,
Im the invisible man,
Im the invisible man
Incredible how you can
See right through me
Im the invisible man
Im the invisible man
Its criminal how I can
See right through you
Look at me, look at me
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In order to understand life it is not only necessary not to be indifferent to men, but not to be indifferent to flocks, to trees. One should be indifferent to nothing.
quote by Remy de Gourmont
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Creation is dominated by three absolutely different factors: First, nature, which works upon us by its laws; second, the artist, who creates a spiritual contact with nature and his materials; third, the medium of expression through which the artist translates his inner world.
quote by Hans Hofmann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vidhi
A Super Zero invisible
Recruiting ever a baby zero invisible
Characterestically mysterios, mischievous
Playing upon the whole creation..
And fruition-dilemma
To be good or evil? off-centered the humans
Incognizant of their third eye
Eye-opener the Super Zero invisible
Adjudging baby-zero on good and evil
Adjudging the third eye all invisible
Wish of the Super-Zero to reveal
When, where, how, why Super-Zero to unveil
Call it the law of the providence or destiny
Also it is Vidhi
And Krishna the Lord
Masquerade of Super-Zero
Hath preached..
'Unto me the greater laws, truths
In compliance unto me your deeds'
To confide and comply
And truly you go by
Vidhi it's then even
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Quatrain #292 - A poet is an artist who..........
A poet is an artist who paints images with words cast on the canvas of our mind
and uses expressions to make a point or evoke feelings of some particular kind.
A poem then is the handiwork of a poet who is usually inspired or otherwise,
being the medium through which he or she reveal themselves to peoples eyes.
poem by George Krokos
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Silky Touch
Silky touch
The feather might give
Remember, still in your heart
I reside I do live.
In God you may believe
The reflection of his creation is you
It's him in you
Wish, I forever see.
Flowers may spread fragrance
For me it's your presence
Whose each unspoken word remains
my only remembrance.
You may be a dream so pure
Sounds indeed, but strange
Yet your identity is true as life I know
For your absence itself portrays your existence everywhere.
poem by Karan Baadkar
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A contemporary artist can use the findings of all epochs and all styles, from the most primitive literary expressions up to the most refined products of the baroque.
quote by Juan Goytisolo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Essences
The shadows that follow my essences,
capturing the invisible power that commands
the love of men kind; many thou of odor's
form an invisible rule, capturing the intoxicating
scent that blinds beauty.
Odor's, scent are capture from the most small
particle and pieces of existence, ruling each
movement awakening passion and lust.
The splendid orange blossoms that preserve my
youth, will then perish when age comes near.
But my scent will stay alive in every part of my
belongings and in every place of my existence,
and in the shadows of my death, the essence will
rule the existence of my lover taking a last breath,
my soul and spirit will take over to
assure my life will not be forgotten after I'm gone,
the essences the intoxicating scent of a woman's
skin will always rule the mind of men kind.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Dirty Fingernail
dirty dirty fingernails...
dirty dirty fingernails...
Out of the shower, on to the bathroom floor
Out in the kitchen, underneath the casserole
dirty dirty fingernails...
dirty dirty fingernails...
(It takes a lot of energy to make that sound)
Out of the shower, on to the bathroom floor
Out in the kitchen, underneath the casserole
Out on the patio, out in the great outdoors
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The work of art assumes the existence of the perfect spectator, and is indifferent to the fact that no such person exists.
quote by E.M. Forster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Invisible Strings
(ian hunter)
One, two, three
Well I woke up this morning - theres a girl in my bed.
How did she get there? was it something I said?
I dont understand it but somehow it seems
She visits me in invisible dreams.
Over and over I try to explain
How did that girl get into my veins?
Did somebody send her - was it my velvet wings?
And how does she touch my invisible strings?
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Now its all over when the fat lady sings
Ill still be playing my invisible strings
Well maybe she dont have a world of her own
Maybe shes using me just like a phone
And sometimes shes cool and sometimes she stings
And Im all tangled up in invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
When youre wearing black and Im wearing wings,
Well still be playing those invisible strings
Well she never leaves - Im never alone
I aint in the book but shes still calling home
I tried to lose her - watch the tv
But that womans always picking on me
Well, theres strings round my body, strings round my heart
Id like to know where the string-pulling starts
Id give anything to meet the angel who sends
Invisible ink to my invisible pen
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
When youre wearing black and Im wearing wings,
Well still be playing our invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Now its all over when the fat lady sings
Well still be playing our invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
Oh yeah
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Engrossed Grandmother In Her Cross Stitching
it is this absurdity of choosing words
for a nice handiwork
knitting some fairies in some mathematical colors of threads
some butterflies and flowers in bright colors
a painting in cloth and threads
takes time
when she is finally hypnotized
falling into a deep sleep
inside a room
where she is alone on dim light
i open the door
i see the best handiwork of God
a woman so indulged so engrossed
in her art
sleeping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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