Very few people possess true artistic ability. It is therefore both unseemly and unproductive to irritate the situation by making an effort. If you have a burning, restless urge to write or paint, simply eat something sweet and the feeling will pass.
quote by Fran Lebowitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Artistic
Artistic
It's artistic
Grace in your movement
Is artistic.
Artistic
It's artistic
Sweetness in your voice
Is artistic.
Artistic
It's artistic
Gleam in your eye
Is artistic.
I'm filled with inspiration
In my dormant artistic pursuit...
With brush in hand
I'll paint your every move
With hidden treasure of words
I'll weave poems of what you say
And I'll move as you command
By the gleam of your eye.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Urge To Merge
Written by Pam Reswick, Steve Werfel
Though I think I really know you
And you think you know me
And we're as close at two people
Could ever hope to be
Still I can't escape the feeling
That no matter what I do
I'll never understand what it feels like to be you
I get the urge to know you better
To make our spirits one
I want to see us be together
As close as we can come
I get the urge to merge
I get the urge to merge with you
I get the urge to merge
I get the urge to merge with you
Have you ever wanted something
You just had to possess
And it turned into obsession
And wouldn't let you rest
There are times I can't help wishing
I could melt right into you
Hear every word you're thinking
Feel everything you do
I feel trapped inside my body
And there's nothing I can do
Want to leap across the wall
That's keeping me from you
To break what can't be broken
To say what can't be spoken
If only for a moment
To touch your soul
I get the urge to know you better
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Places To Inspire
There are places in this world,
that when you are there inspire
you to do things
associated with that place.
Some are artistic and others of prayer.
I have been to both
and the validity of those words I can swear.
Once I went to Knock
the most holy place in Ireland.
A place where serenity
hangs over everything.
A feeling of something beautiful
comes over you.
That you never want to leave.
Another place is Stratford,
the birthplace of the bard.
Any would be poet,
can’t help to be inspired there.
It has to be something in the air.
Words just keep forming lines in your head,
and urge you to write them down.
Therefore, you feed your compulsion
and a new poem is found.
So if you are feeling,
the need to write, but can’t.
Go to Stratford on Avon,
and change the situation around.
You will find yourself inspired,
under the eyes of the bard,
when you follow the Shakespeare way.
2 June 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Images Birth Wet Paint Born
wet on wet paint on paint
layers of wet paint applied
to previous layered layers
images birth wet paint born
images born in liquid imagination
images born in landscape infinity
images born in individual creativity
images born in artistic genius ability
images born in limitless multiplicity
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also the poems ‘Layers Of Wet Paint Applied’ and ‘Interactions Invoke Imagination Entrances’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seductive Yet Unproductive
Seductive yet unproductive,
Come those temptations to touch.
And for each one that is tasted...
Regret soon follows up.
Seductive yet unproductive,
Come those temptations to touch.
And for each one that is tasted...
Regret soon follows up.
But we all seem to have those needs to please.
Seductive yet unproductive.
And we plead on knees to have them leave.
Seductive yet unproductive.
And we waiver when we see our neighbors savoring the flavor.
Seductive yet unproductive.
But we all seem to have those needs to please.
Seductive yet unproductive.
And we plead on knees to have them leave.
Seductive yet unproductive.
And we waiver when we see our neighbors savoring the flavor.
Seductive yet unproductive.
And no matter what we do that just don't go away.
Temptations.
Seductive yet unproductive.
And no matter what we do that just don't go away.
Temptations.
Seductive yet unproductive.
And no matter what we do that just don't go away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cemetery
I need a change
Not to immitate, to irritate
All the world to hate
Maybe late
Always sing together all day without you
I guess it's fate
I live in a cemetary
Full of good will and integrity
I have no specialty
Here's your warning
I'll give you click click boom
I live in a cemetary
I need a change
Not To immitate, irritate
I live in a cemetary
I need a change
Not To immitate, irritate
(intrumental)
I live in a cemetary
I need a change
Not To immitate, irritate
I live in a cemetary
I need a change
Not To immitate, irritate
I live in a cemetary
I need a change
Not To immitate, irritate...
song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Charlotte - Cemetary
I need a change
Not to immitate, to irritate
All the world to hate
Maybe late
Always sing together all day without you
I guess it's fate
I live in a cemetary
Full of good will and integrity
I have no specialty
Here's your warning
I'll give you click click boom
I live in a cemetary
I need a change
Not To immitate, irritate
I live in a cemetary
I need a change
Not To immitate, irritate
(intrumental)
I live in a cemetary
I need a change
Not To immitate, irritate
I live in a cemetary
I need a change
Not To immitate, irritate
I live in a cemetary
I need a change
Not To immitate, irritate...
song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So I'm in that half-hour business where the most money is, so that eventually I feel like the people that put on the Dupont show, like maybe my artistic effort is going to be a little different.
quote by Jackie Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Than Love
Every morning takes a chance, it might not come around
So its maybe coming later
A preacher man on my t.v.
Says hes got the streets for me
And prays you write the letter
Heavenly father tell me how its gonna be
So that I can try to make it better
Restless bars, you and I suppose they are
For blowing it all away
Thats why I say
It takes more than love to get it on
You know it takes more than strength to carry on
It takes more than words to get it wrong
It takes more than love to get it on
Making us crazy, burnin our bridges
Taking them out one at a time
Goodbyes you know dont come easy
Did you wanna go, for the thrill of it all
Why dyou wanna go cause you had no reason
For blowin it all away
It takes more than love to get it on
You know it takes more than strength to carry on
It takes more than words to get it wrong
It takes more than love to get it on
Ships are sailing and you know your aim is true
The figureheads have broken in your mind
You paint yourself a picture, and it turns to black and white
And settle with the people one more time
Chorus to fade
song performed by by Wet Wet Wet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nice To Know
When you write a poem,
it is nice to know people enjoy it
enough to leave a comment behind.
The enjoyment grows when they add it
to their list of poems they want to read again.
The thrill is even greater when your words
inspire someone to write,
paint, photograph and more.
Helping them to fulfil a dream,
I know this is true,
as my words have reached out
more than once to people.
It is a satisfying feeling
that is so hard to explain,
but you will know what I mean
when it happens to you
again and again.
15 March 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I consider melodrama to be a story or situation created artificially, with the sole purpose of attracting an audience’s attention. This is contrived very conveniently. If you want to depict a truthful drama, it is permissible to use any means available. Here I mean any possible dramatic situation, including the extreme examples you mentioned. However, this is the area in which true artists are separated from professional craftsmen. If the director, the “creator,” intends to produce a truly artistic work, he must carefully choose the most suitable dramatic situation from the many possibilities. This selection is in the director’s hands entirely, and the choice determines how fine an artist he is
Kaneto Shindo in Voices from the Japanese Cinema (1975)
Submitted by Simona Enache
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Restless
I dont belong to no one
I dont belong at all
Got my face in the corner
Got my back to the wall
And pretty baby Im restless, restless
Restless through and through
Im restless, restless
You look restless too
Im a hair trigger lover
And I cant face up to nothing
Im impatient with the wind
But Im waitin here for somethin
And pretty baby Im restless, restless
Restless through and through
Im restless, restless
You look restless too
Restless sleep, twisted dreams
Moving targets, silent screams
Restless city, restless street
Restless you , restless me
Im a face at the window
Im a black satin sheet
And I cant stay warm
I stay out in the street
And pretty baby Im restless, restless
Restless through and through
Im restless, restless
You look restless too
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Restless
(carl perkins)
I dont belong to no one
I dont belong at all
Got my face in the corner
Got my back to the wall
And pretty baby Im restless, restless
Restless through and through
Im restless, restless
You look restless too
Im a hair trigger lover
And I cant face up to nothing
Im impatient with the wind
But Im waitin here for somethin
And pretty baby Im restless, restless
Restless through and through
Im restless, restless
You look restless too
Restless sleep, twisted dreams
Moving targets, silent screams
Restless city, restless street
Restless you , restless me
Im a face at the window
Im a black satin sheet
And I cant stay warm
I stay out in the street
And pretty baby Im restless, restless
Restless through and through
Im restless, restless
You look restless too
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire Ferocious
Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.
You show no mercy – no regard:
A writhing army uncontrolled.
At least you don’t discriminate,
Selecting to exterminate:
All dealt with equal pain untold.
Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.
In time of drought you run amok –
An open chimney of the land.
Prefer to scorch than suffocate:
In blinding zeal, incinerate
To blackened vista now unmanned.
Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.
Destruction be your only goal
For you to vent your jealous wrath
On gentle life with caring soul
And human victims to console:
As you are none, but psychopath.
Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.
So there it is – you are but flame:
Reacting gases to adorn –
With orange flicks of flailing arms,
You’re flaunting your demonic charms!
Now leave us for bereaved to mourn.
Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.
So many lives to claim.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
Fire fire burning fire fire fire burning fire
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What I am going to write is the last of what I have to say. I will say that literature is the only consciousness we possess and that its role as consciousness must inform us of our ability to comprehend the hideous danger of nuclear power.
quote by John Cheever
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I never said I was a poet just a man
dear francis,
do not call yourself
'just a man',
do not deprive yourself
the laurels of
'a poet'
you are a man, and a man is more than a poet
the man with the urge to write is more than a man without an urge
even just to write
and be this 'poet'
the poets (those taking the top charts) either have died
(and take the fame posthumously) or they have rested
on laurel
leaves, or they have confined themselves on
some
writers' block
but you francis
behold the stars and the other suns
has written more
and toiled more, your fruits are many
and more have eaten them
tasted how sweet what wisdom you have
i crown you the true laurels
these living laurels of poetry
moving, alive, toiling, working, always thinking
about those that must come
next for generations to come
i crown you,
Francis Duggan
the true laurels of working, moving, living poetry
i give you the title,
the true, living poet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sign-Board
I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
And hang it above your door;
A truer and better signboard
Than ever you had before.
I will paint with the skill of a master,
And many shall pause to see
This wonderful piece of painting,
So like the reality.
I will paint yourself, rumseller,
As you wait for that fair young boy,
Just in the morning of manhood,
A mother's pride and joy.
He has no thought of stopping,
But you greet him with a smile,
And you seem so blithe and friendly,
That he pauses to chat awhile.
I will paint you again, rumseller,
I will paint you as you stand,
With a foaming glass of liquor
Extended in your hand.
He wavers, but you urge him-
Drink, pledge me just this one!
And he takes the glass and drains it,
And the hellish work is done.
And next I will paint a drunkard-
Only a year has flown,
But into that loathsome creature
The fair young boy has grown.
The work was sure and rapid.
I will paint him as he lies
In a torpid, drunken slumber,
Under the wintry skies.
I will paint the form of the mother
As she kneels at her darling's side,
Her beautiful boy that was dearer
Than all the world beside.
I will paint the shape of a coffin,
Labeled with one word-'lost,'
I will paint all this, rumseller,
And will paint it free of cost.
The sin and the shame and the sorrow,
The crime and the want and the woe
That are born there in your workshop,
No hand can paint, you know.
But I'll paint you a sign, rumseller,
And many shall pause to view
This wonderful swinging signboard,
So terribly, fearfully true.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Signboard
I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
And hang it above your door;
A truer and better signboard
Than ever you had before.
I will paint with the skill of a master,
And many shall pause to see
This wonderful piece of painting,
So like the reality.
I will paint yourself, rumseller,
As you wait for that fair young boy,
Just in the morning of manhood,
A mother’s pride and joy.
He has no thought of stopping,
But you greet him with a smile
And you seem so blithe and friendly,
That he pauses a chat awhile.
I will paint you again, rumseller,
I will paint you as you stand,
With a foaming glass of liquor
Extended in your hand.
He wavers, but you urge him –
Drink, pledge me just this one!
And he takes the glass and drains it,
And the hellish work is done.
And next I will paint a drunkard –
Only a year has flown,
But into that loathesome creature
The fair young boy has grown.
The work was sure and rapid.
I will paint him as he lies
In a torpid, drunken slumber,
Under the wintry skies.
I will paint the form of the mother
As she kneels at her darling’s side,
Her beautiful boy that was dearer
Than all the world beside.
I will paint the shape of a coffin
Labelled with one word – ‘Lost’
I will paint all this, rumseller,
And will paint it free of cost.
The sin and the shame and the sorrow,
The crime and the want and the woe
That are born there in your workshop,
No hand can paint, you know
But I’ll paint you a sign, rumseller,
And many shall pause to view
This wonderful swinging signboard,
So terribly, fearfully true.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Governmental aid is a drawback rather than an assistance, as, although it may facilitate in the routine of artistic production, it is an impediment to the development of true artistic genius.
quote by John Philip Sousa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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