If I didn't start painting, I would have raised chickens.
quote by William Lyon Phelps

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I hadn't started painting, I would have raised chickens.
quote by Grandma Moses

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens
Last night I dreamed of chickens,
there were chickens everywhere,
they were standing on my stomach,
they were nesting in my hair,
they were pecking at my pillow,
they were hopping on my head,
they were ruffling up their feathers
as they raced about my bed.
They were on the chairs and tables,
they were on the chandeliers,
they were roosting in the corners,
they were clucking in my ears,
there were chickens, chickens, chickens
for as far as I could see...
when I woke today, I noticed
there were eggs on top of me.
poem by Jack Prelutsky

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Eggxample
What came first chickens or eggs?
Chickens of course!
Chickens have legs!
Chickens have feathers,
Eggs have a shell,
How would you like your eggs, done well?
This may be a 'yolk',
But consider it folk!
poem by Ernestine Northover

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Much More Work to Do
Why are those chickens running around,
And their heads have been cut off?
'They've been conditioned that they are not chickens.
They've been programmed to believe they are constituents.
And that's the name they prefer.
It has stuck with them!
Like feathers attached to birds.'
You are what you believe, you know?
'I know!
And those heads?
They've never used them anyway.
So the running around,
With their heads cut off the way they do?
They've been told only 'chickens' do that!
And as luck would have it...
They can't see themselves that way!
No heads?
No eyes!
What about all those pots you've got?
'Well...
We've been promising to get one in each pot!
And that's the dilemma.
Like I said...
They can't 'see' themselves as chickens.
Nor do they believe,
We can get one in each pot!
So they are running around...
As if a lottery to be played,
Will be stopped.
And...
I don't have to tell you,
There's a lot of convincing.
With much more work to do.
None of this was planned too well.'
Or at all!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Didn't Mean To Fall In Love
I didn't mean to fall in love
I didn't mean to fall in love
And all I mean to say
I can't go on the way things are
How can I lead the way
It feels so wrong to be so far away
Ooh, from you tonight
If I, if I lose you, I can't survive
Didn't know you would've come tonight
Didn't hang on long enough
Didn't want to go and start a fight
Didn't mean to go, go and fall in love
It's like an avalanche
Once you fall you're swept away
I didn't stand a chance
Hangin' on every word you say
Hey, we can find a place for love
Ooh, do you want it bad enough
I didn't mean to fall in love
I didn't mean to fall in love
So could you catch a plane
Come back home for one more try
I'll never be the same
I fell so hard out of the sky today
For you, you see
And you would never believe what you do for me
Can't you see you're all I need
Didn't know you would've come tonight
Didn't hang on long enough
Didn't want to go and start a fight
Didn't mean to go, go and fall in love
(Tom Scholz, Curly Smith, Janet Minto)
song performed by by Boston

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When you start a painting, it is somewhat outside you. At the conclusion, you seem to move inside the painting.
quote by Fernando Botero

Submitted by Micheleflowerbomb
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The World Of Either Or
you cannot have the best of
both worlds
when you have all those chickens
you have to sacrifice your flowers
these chickens eat flowers for breakfast
on the other hand
when you keep those flowers
you must first kill all the chickens
as i once told you, this is the world
of
either or
not both
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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When I get my hands on painting materials I don't give a damn about other people's painting... every generation must start again afresh.
quote by Maurice de Vlaminck

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Art'life
At the Oslo art museum we went to see Edvard Munck’s
“The Scream.” Yeah I know that feeling.
I bought a print it cost about twenty Euros, it now hangs
on the wall in front of me and it screams for me.
But his painting “The Kiss” absorbed me the most, it
is one of the greatest sensual, painting I have ever seen.
There were many other paintings of great masters, but
I didn’t see them as “the kiss” blurred my sight.
There was a reverent whispering in the room, I didn’t
cared for, like being in a church where even a cough is
frown upon. When my wife went to the loo I told a female
security guard she looked like the woman in the “kiss.”
Her stern, blue eyes softened, she giggled and said:
“But you can’t see the woman’s face in the painting.” No dear,
but if I could it would be a face as beautiful as yours.”
More guards came and I was escorted out of the building.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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You were hidden inside my heart Original by Rabindranath Tagore
You were hidden inside my heart
Right from the start
I saw outside, I didn't see
What's in my heart
All the love pain and hope that I went through
You were with me, I didn't go to you
You were hidden inside my heart
Right from the start
I saw outside I didn't see
What's in my heart
You were in my game
As a great pleasure
So my days passed by
In joy and leisure
You provide music in my songs from heart
But I haven't sung a song from your part
You were hidden inside my heart
Right from the start
I saw outside I didn't see
What's in my heart
poem by Asif Andalib

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What's Going On With The Chickens?
What's going on with the chickens?
'No one really knows exactly how all of this started.
Or wish to connect any of this,
To the making of common sense.
They are baffled.
We are baffled.
And since it was reported,
Those chickens were going home to roost...
Well,
The abundance of eggs they once had laid...
Has been limited to quite a few.
And 'now'...
Someone has decided to use them,
In some foolish sexual preference dispute.'
And...
Who is that guy tied up to the chair?
'He was the one who first declared,
A suspicion he had that chickens everywhere...
Were preparing to come home to roost.'
Oh yes...
I remember.
He was the one daring to tell the truth about the chickens.
And he was labelled a racist too.
'What are they calling the people,
Choosing to protect their rights...
Not to cater to those with same sex appetites? '
Conveniently they have called them conservatives.
'Has everyone lost their minds? '
I have no idea.
But grateful I am to be a vegetarian.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Aint Nobody Here But Us Chickens
(j. cramer/j. whitney)
One night farmer brown was taken the air
Locked up the barnyard with the greatest of care
Down in the henhouse somethin stirred
When he shouted,whos there? , this is what he heard
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
So calm yourself, stop that fuss, aint nobody here but us
Were chickens trying to sleep and you butt in
And hobble, hobble, hobble, hobble with your chin
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
Youre stompin around, shakin the ground, kickin up an aweful dust
Were chickens trying to sleep and you butt in
And hobble, hobble, hobble, hobble, its a sin
(bridge)
Tomorrow is a busy day, weve got things to do, weve got eggs to lay
We got ground to dig and worms to scratch
Takes a lot of sittin gettin chicks to hatch
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
So quiet yourself, stop that fuss, aint nobody here but us
Kindly point that gun the other way
And hobble, hobble, hobble off and hit the hay
(repeat bridge)
Its easy pickin, aint nobody here but us chickens
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Painting The Walls
painting the walls,
rolling over handprints,
cobwebs, and smoke stains....
over splashes of color,
over peels of time.
painting over the sounds
of voices whispering, laughing....
painting over tears hidden
from the world, from each other.
painting over running, and working,
working all day and half the night.
painting over children, and dreams,
folded like old clothes, and put away.
painting over notes from God,
that were often barely noticed...
painting over the nail that held
up the clock, hands moving slowly,
turning the seasons of living....
painting over the final words,
the last breath held in the hands,
of lives written in the grain....
the testimony of each feeling....
painting the walls,
and brushing the corners,
as if we never lived!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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I've been attracted to imagery and occasionally I've drawn from it, but I never thought I'd be painting these paintings. I didn't have any desire to. I didn't think there was any reason to.
quote by William Wiley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elegy To A Chicken
Here today and gone tomorrow
In this world of strife and sorrow.
Went out to check on the chickens today
To bring in the eggs that they did lay.
Gathered them up, then saw by their nest
A large black hen taking a rest.
She didn’t move so I poked with a stick
Dead as a doornail, stiff as a brick.
Got me a shovel and a big plastic bag
Scooped her up and tried not to gag.
Took it out back, put in one of the bins
Life’s a cruel game that nobody wins.
If people go to heaven then chickens can too
And with that kind thought I drank me a brew.
Here’s to you chicken, you’re off to a better place
Where you don’t have to put up
With the human race.
For it’s a sad thing to have anything die
So let’s all shed a tear
It’s O K to cry.
poem by George Hunter

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Mutuality In Kindness...
the chickens
so many of them
make a music for him
who sleeps
on the haystack
he gathers the grains
to feed them
early morning
to the chickens
they found a master
at last
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Twitch
Baby every now and then you disappear from this earth
And where you been and where you go I don't know
But when you didn't up for till 2 I'm like where was you
Late again (you) didn't call on a cell that I bought
[Chorus]
I figured out when you open your mouth
First you start forgettin' then your palms start sweatin'
Then you twitch
song performed by by Christina Milian from Am To Pm

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At the point where I'm trying to force something and it's not happening, and I'm getting frustrated with, say, writing a poem, I can go and pick up the brushes and start painting. At the point where the painting seems to not be going anywhere, I go and pick up the guitar.
quote by Joni Mitchell

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunflowers After Sex.
After the sex she stood
In front of the Van Gogh
Painting and gazed. Never
Saw that last night, she said.
It was dark, Max replied.
She touched the painting
With her fingers. Why have
A painting of flowers when
You can go out and buy some?
She asked. They last longer this
Way, he replied. So did you
Paint this? She asked in a state
Of semi undress, her eyes sleepy,
Her hair in a mess. No, Van Gogh
Did, he replied. Is he a friend of
Yours? She asked rubbing her breasts.
He sighed and shook his head. No,
Van Gogh painted that many years
Ago, now he’s dead. It’s a bit yellow,
She said, looking at the painting
Closer, what are those yellow flowers
Supposed to be? Sunflowers, he said,
They’re big flowers; people grow them
For real. She raised her eyebrows and
Pulled a face. What about that drink?
She asked. Sure, Max replied pouring
Her gin in a tall glass. She took, sipped
And winked an eye. What about more
Sex? She sighed. Sure, Max, looking at
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, boringly replied.
poem by Terry Collett

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A Perfect Painting
Perfect painting
An azure, sinless sky
a whisper of white clouds
and a yellow sun.
The canvas was big
but the painter got bored
walked home.
It rained in the night
canvas, dark and ominous
the artist was contented.
Painting, just the way
it was intended,
but he didn´t bother to sign it.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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