An artist, under pain of oblivion, must have confidence in himself, and listen only to his real master: Nature.
quote by Auguste Renoir
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Great Master Poet Wrote
A great master poet told
how nature interceded
and interrupted a architect’s design
and made it’s own adjustments in time
but that the master designing artist’s eye,
his mind, comprehended
the difference and from it found
a brilliant answer to where
the problems were
and yet a man of the book
took it upon himself
to declare the designers work
as a copy of strokes
made by the hand of God
which lead to the ruination
of that master architect.
Now if we follow this argument
every poem, even every thought,
every painting
about nature’s splendour
or even the beauty of the human being
or whatever,
you could connect to God or His creation,
even when we sing words, paint pictures
and create art
it does not belong to the author
but to the Lord God and his church.
l’Envoi
If you take the artist away
from designs, verses, paintings, music
(from whatever art)
it will not be there
and it will not exist,
which leaves me to conclude
that some men of the holy book
do claim in the name of the divine
that which does not belong to them
or their church.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The artist is the lover of Nature, therefore he is her slave and her master.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Silvia Velea
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By The Fireside : Gaspar Becerra
By his evening fire the artist
Pondered o'er his secret shame;
Baffled, weary, and disheartened,
Still he mused, and dreamed of fame.
'T was an image of the Virgin
That had tasked his utmost skill;
But, alas! his fair ideal
Vanished and escaped him still.
From a distant Eastern island
Had the precious wood been brought
Day and night the anxious master
At his toil untiring wrought;
Till, discouraged and desponding,
Sat he now in shadows deep,
And the day's humiliation
Found oblivion in sleep.
Then a voice cried, 'Rise, O master!
From the burning brand of oak
Shape the thought that stirs within thee!'
And the startled artist woke,--
Woke, and from the smoking embers
Seized and quenched the glowing wood;
And therefrom he carved an image,
And he saw that it was good.
O thou sculptor, painter, poet!
Take this lesson to thy heart:
That is best which lieth nearest;
Shape from that thy work of art.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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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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Confidence | Words of Wisdom
Don’t mistake power for confidence
You’ll never never like how it ends
Take your stance and understand
Confidence is the greatest tool
Confidence is power that’s my first rule
Now weapons aren’t that sharp even from the start
But confidence is evident etched with in your brain
Confidence is sharper than any razor blade
Individuality is a packaged deal
You’ve got to trust yourself and know yourself for real
Now trying to control ain’t gonna work
Power is a tool that’s broke
Too much effort, too much mess,
Leaving a trail of broken heart and broken glass
So there’s my proof I say it with confidence
poem by Life in a Poem
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I have a master plan as an artist. I've always said I'm not going to be punching nobody's clock. I will work as an artist to survive in this world.
quote by Erykah Badu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pain Is Just To Real
The pain is just to real.
There’s a tear somewhere deep within me.
Pulling at me, reaching up, seizing me.
The pain is just to real.
It bursts white hot scorching my insides.
Prying me open, ripping inside me.
The pain is just to real.
Needles hitting over and over again.
A cry of fear burst through my mouth.
The pain is just to real.
I hear the thud each time the pain comes.
It’s excruciating, I can’t take this much longer.
The pain is just to real.
I clutch my chest I can’t seem to breathe.
It’s killing me.
The pain is just to real.
Something’s shattering inside me.
It’s hitting every piece of flesh within me.
The pain is just to real.
White hot pain explodes in my chest.
Thud, Thud, pain pulses through my veins.
The pain is just to real.
My muscles begin to twitch.
Clutching my chest I think I see lights.
The pain is just to real.
My vision goes blurry.
I’m coming short of breath.
The pain is just to real.
With one gasping breathe I realize what’s happening.
My heart is shattering..
poem by Krystal Allison
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You Can't Keep A Job
Why should I let you sleep...
When,
I can't get a wink.
And,
You want even let me nod...
When I've worked real hard.
Why should I listen to you...
When,
You never listen to me.
And,
I find it real odd...
You can't keep a job!
But you tell me how you work,
All day!
And you say you have no time,
To play.
And...
When I turn away you tell me,
I'm being evil.
I'm just trying to do my best...
To get me some rest.
Why should I let you sleep...
When,
I can't get a wink.
And,
You want even let me nod...
When I've worked real hard.
Why should I listen to you...
When,
You never listen to me.
And,
I find it real odd...
You can't keep a job!
I find it real odd...
You can't keep a job!
Why should I listen to you...
When,
You never listen to me.
And,
I find it real odd...
You can't keep a job!
'Today? '
I find it real odd...
You can't keep a job!
'Today? '
I find it real odd...
You can't keep a job!
'Today? '
I find it real odd...
You can't keep a job!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Listen
Listen to the vines with the thorns
For they are the tricksters
Listen to their wisdom
Listen to the trees
For they are the sages
Listen to them whisper their knowledge in your ear
Listen to the leaves
For they are the talkers
Listen to them talk
Listen to the stream
for it is the dreamer
Listen to its dreams
Listen to mother nature
For she is their mother
Listen with her for she is your mother too
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Turn Your Radio On
Come and listen in to a radio station
Where the mighty hosts of heaven sing
Turn your radio on, turn your radio on
If you want to feel those good vibrations
Coming from the joy that His love can bring
Turn you radio on, turn your radio on.
Turn your radio on
And listen to the music in the air
Turn your radio on and glory share
Turn your lights down low
And listen to the Master's radio
Get in touch with God, and turn your radio on.
--- Instrumental ---
Everybody has a radio receiver
All you got to do is listen for the call
Turn your radio on, turn your radio on
If you listen in you will be a believer
Leanin' on the truths that'll never fall
Get in touch with God, turn the radio on.
Turn your radio on
And listen to the music in the air
Turn your radio on and glory share
Turn your lights down low
And listen to the Master's radio
Get in touch with God, turn your radio on.
Turn your radio on
And listen to the music in the air
Turn your radio on and glory share
Turn your lights down low
And listen to the Master's radio
Get in touch with God, turn your radio on.
Turn your lights down low
And listen to the Master's radio
Get in touch with God, turn your radio on...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Though the artist must remain master of his craft, the surface, at times raised to the highest pitch of loveliness, should transmit to the beholder the sensation which possessed the artist.
quote by Alfred Sisley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The First Artist and Author.
The first artist painted the sky with colors, such beauty,
Look at those sunsets, and the mountains, such reality;
The mountains, have shadows, of splendor that only the Master can do,
Yes! It's God who was the first Artist, and He also taught me too.
The first great artist painted the colors on the sea,
Blues, greens, aquas, Only one could do this you see;
And when there is a storm near, the sea goes so dark blue,
Yes! God is the first great artist, to paint it for me and you.
The first great Artist, loved to teach David to write poetry,
And also king Solomon, writing words of such beauty;
Oh such magnificent works, of color and in each word,
Yes! There is only one who could do this it is the Lord.
Then. We see in every rainbow, and in each shell as well,
Look at the colored sands, and in every bird, it does tell;
Then look at each animal, and also the petals of each flower too
Then as you look at these, , give Thanks for doing it for me and you.
poem by Margaret Haig
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No Name #3
We arrived too late
Our mouths were opening
I turned off the light
So come on night
You're a witness you
You've seen me interrupt
A good old fashioned fight
So come on night
Everyone is gone
Home to oblivion
Home to oblivion
Home to oblivion
Watched the dying day
Blushing in the sky
Everyone is uptight
So come on night
Everyone is gone
Home to oblivion
Home to oblivion
Home to oblivion
I know we're not
Illegitimate
In our hearing
So come on
So come on night
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oblivion
it's real sick
the state of the world today
it's real thick
to come up and find a way
solution
the next time you're alone
you can
create a world of your own
make it magic
give it love
make it all you're dreaming of
everybody
in my underwear
sometimes I visit there
oblivion
ignorance is bliss
don't know nothing but this
oblivion
forget
bounce from right to left
here with the broken hearted
let's get this party started
lalalalalala
I eat my marimbas
oblivion
I tingle when I sing
bling bling bling ting ting
oblivion
forget
bounce from right to left
here with the broken hearted
let's get this party started
it's tempting to pack up your throne
move in
make this magic place your home
but nobody else can go
you'll be forever all alone
forget
bounce from right to left
no longer broken hearted and I don't know when it started
oblivion
song performed by by Macy Gray from The ID
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pain and Feasts
The pain in my body
Is pulsating -
Screaming!
Alarming!
And yet I have
to go out and feast
I must shallow the palliatives
from songs, art, prayer and dance
I must lock my pain
In the box of oblivion
Until the day is done.
Let me beautify all around me
With my smiles and laughter
Let me fully feast and celebrate
With friends and loved ones
Till the day is done.
And when the day is done,
Let me listen to the murmurs
And tortures of my bodily pain
And let me swing my cradle
With the wings of joy
Gleaned from the life
of merry field feasts.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Listen To The Rain
(Rain)
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen listen
Listen to each drop of rain (listen listen)
Aaah
Whispering secrets in rain (listen listen)
Aaah
Frantically searching for someone to hear
That story be more than it hides
Please don't let go
Can't we stay for a while?
It's just to hard to say goodbye
Listen to the rain
Aa...ah
Listen listen listen listen listen listen to the rain
Weeping
Oo...ooh oooh ooh oo...ooh
Oo...ooh oooh oh oh
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen
I stand alone in the storm (listen listen)
Suddenly sweet words take hold
(Listen listen)
Hurry they stay for you haven't much time
Open your eyes to the love around you
You can feel youre alone
But I'm here still with you
You can do what you dream
Just remember to listen to the rain
oo...ooh oh oh oh oh
ooh ooh oh oh oooh
Listen
song performed by by Evanescence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mystical Force of Nature
The mystical force of nature exists
Under the beat of its own drum
A force so strong it commands,
Everything on this planet
Adhering to the rhythm of this life,
Nature is natural,
The phenomena of every living thing
That grows and breaths
Is blessed with a divine will
To live and reproduce.
Mother Nature has no jurisdiction on either
The golden sun or the silver moon, but
Is the leveller of all that lives on earth
And the grand master of none,
Quietly the architect of design changed
By the stroke of time’s evolution
Tells all this must command respect,
Of Mother Nature
The Grand Master forever.
NB Oxf/Dict The Master... 7b Christ
poem by Ken e Hall
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A Man Of Oblivion
Oblivion is my refuge and
It`s worth a life`s deductions.
From the day my life sprang up
From the mercy of the Creator
My oblivion has been my pal beloved.
Oblivion is my strength and
It`s nothing less than a grace.
Transferring my pains and woes
Into its inner chambers my entity triumphs
And my ego surges forward.
My oblivion has two phases-
One is of my life haunted by myself,
The other is of my life ravaged by time.
As the lilies fade out the former does and
As the islands in the Pacific submerge does the latter.
What is an oblivion of your kind?
Do you ever make such deductions?
As a new stream of new pathos rushes
To run along the abode of your oblivion,
Do you know the bliss you scale down?
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Real Cool World
So far this love is delightful
The face of seduction was you
But I listened for each and every footstep
In this real cool world
Questioning saintlike and fantastic heroes
Feeling like lost little children in fabled lands
So I listen for each and every friendship
In this real cool world
Now there is you
In my real cool world
Starry-eyed life but somehow believing in nothing
You whisper sweet nothing but reading between your lines
I listen color me doubtful
In this real cool world
Now there is you
In my real cool world
You came from nowhere
You came from nowhere
You held me you shook me
Hey
Its a cool world
Its a cool world
Its a real cool world
Its a real cool world
Its a real cool world
Its a real cool world
Now there is you
In my real cool world
Now there is you
In my real cool world
Mmmm
Real cool world
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lord of the Flies
Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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