From time immemorial artistic insights have been revealed to artists in their sleep and in dreams, so that at all times they ardently desired them.
quote by Paracelsus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Gaps In Creativity
real writing
demands real time
course work
never allowed
full time employment
never allowed
artistic development
real writing
part time artists
produce part time work
part time pieces
of genuine artistic souls
to produce artistically
but a few times
to only create properly
but a few times
in work recent months
is curse of part time
artists who felt right
but a few times in months
the rest of the time
was racing gaps
small time windows
of opportunity art time
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Washed Away Under Work Loads
artists feel frustrated
when achieving not
when producing art not
not realizing images
in shifting vision mind
artists should
be producing art
no time for cooking
no time for cleaning
no time for hair cut
artists should not
not be able to keep up
with fermenting ideas
rain weather changes
haunting wake up calls
not creating art
is wasting artistic souls
is wasting artistic lives
in dry season droughts
withering artistic minds
work income human activities
life necessity farming for wages
dependent on salary climates
fifty sixty wage slave hours
is change devastating for artists
this drought no time for artistic activities
is crop failure starvation of artistic minds
leading to artistic suffering on massive scales
droughts are caused by lack of fertility rains
extended over long periods of wage slave times
slight brief rains slight artistic showers
is normality artistic not enough spring rains
to ground absorb artistic evaporated minds
artist is dehydrated lacking soul rejuvenations
plants animals need sustaining life waters
artists need self generated creativity waters
least art dies death of artistic dehydrations
art is main ingredient in artistic food chains
plants die from lack of water therefore animals
eating these plants will also die in drought cycles
artists true artists deprived of art wither drought dies
in mind soul lacking artistic flowering rejuvenations
without art creativity cycle fades away dies out expires
artists hail festivals sing dance to music in craft minds
artist restoring balance in self social harmony in societies?
artists feel frustrated
when not
producing art
not realizing images
in vision mind
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Bestowers Of Transformative Vision
pathos suffering passion
ripe within bodily experience
pathos of culture artistic expression
artists the 'I give birth to'
shape shifters people creators
bestowers of transformative vision
sentence seen is life vibration alteration
passionate in artistic creation expression
enrichers of web strand seekers beholders
artists hung upon vision quests
artists hung upon life beat heart beats
artists hung upon eyes burning in soul flame
artists historical now you see them now you don’t
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Art Consumes Flame Immortal Souls
What is the curse of no time
for any artist for all artists?
Art demands time
all consuming time
times of precise reflection
times of informative focus
times of intense productivity
times of perceptive clarity
times of felt vision testimony
times of account sensitivity
times of passion commentary
times of creative outpourings
times of artistic servitude
means art more demands
than a mere pound of flesh
art demands fibres of our being
art demands neurons identities
art demands touch sound stimuli
art demands light radiant souls
art demands devotes of the mind
art demands paid vision ransoms
art demands intense internal bleeding
art demands pain waltz symphonies
art demands epic universal certainties
art demands artists lifetime creations
art consumes flame immortal souls
poem by Terence George Craddock
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What Has Been Revealed
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with eyes tightly closed...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with an upturned nose...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with pretensions,
Left to charade.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with the cool-aid made...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with debates...
Created for more time to waste.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even those who protest,
Unaccepting with wishes to reject!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even the message,
And the messenger to detest!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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Time Immemorial
Start in the way that you want to go on
Tear down the fence that you sit upon
It was good while it lasted but now it has gone
So face up to what you have done
For time immemorial, time immemorial, time
A glorious contest to find the invincible one
And I will know everything there is
Goodbye to you and your money
And I will go anywhere you say
If you take away all the cameras
The house that we live in is falling apart
There's no guarantee coz we got it for free
And all the pretenders to somebody's throne
Are finding it out on there own
For time immemorial, time immemorial, time
We'll go on a mission to find the invincible one
And I will know everything there is
Goodbye to you and your public
And I will go everywhere you say
If you don't charge admission
Okay, we're lucky, but then again...
For time immemorial, time immemorial, time
We'll go on a mission to find the invincible one
And I will know everything there is
Goodbye to you and your money
And I will go anywhere you say
If you sell me shown the secrets of your house
And I will know everything you say
Take away all the cameras, the cameras
And I will go anywhere you say
If you don't charge admission, admission
song performed by by Crowded House
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From time immemorial, man has desired to comprehend the complexity of nature in terms of as few elementary concepts as possible.
quote by Abdus Salam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Time I Open My Eyes
Night or day
I dream of you
Dream of spending time with you too
Dream we decided to fall in love and that you'd always stay
Sometimes it makes me want to sleep all the time
What's the point of being awake
When during my dreams is when I'm happy
Because during my dreams you're here with me
I'll try to sleep for your sake
We've had the best times together these past three weeks
Even though I haven't seen you in awhile
Every night I go to sleep with a smile
But every morning, every time I wake up
I feel the depression, someone take this cup
Because every time I open my eyes I'm still alone
No matter how sweet the dream, it ends
No matter how much love my heart sends
The dreams they end and when I open my eyes I'm empty
When I open my eyes I'm still alone, I'm still me.... just me
I almost don't want to dream for fear of harsh reality
I know it's selfish of me
To want to dream all day and then not because it hurts my feelings
I wish I could just tape up my heart with sealings
And not let anyone is because all I dream of is true love
And all I can think when I wake up is: I'm completely alone
I'm unloved
I can't write poetry, and I can't rhyme
I have no skill, and I have no true love
EVERY SINGLE TIME MY EYES ARE OPEN!
I'm just alone even when I close my eyes to cry, the second they open tears
Come again, because I'm still alone...
It's gotten to the point where I can barely cry I've drowned in my emotion
I almost wish for death again, anything to end this loneliness
Why do I seek love so ardently when I have nothing left to give of me...
Maybe that's why when I open my eyes I may be a young boy
But I feel like
'An old man, filled with regrets, waiting to die alone.'
poem by David Knox
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Few artists can afford artistic temperament.
quote by Mason Cooley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry Is Said To Be
poetry is said to be
many different things
by many different people
poetry is an exotic source
an imaginative artistic sauce
to rare spectacular insights
consider ingredients three
are caring giving sharing
key love expressions
poem by Terence George Craddock
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An ardent wish for others
How ardently, now, I wish for others
what I –alas too late – wish -
would have wished - for my own self,
and maybe, for my parents too:
some time in life – it would depend on you –
but not too late, too late –
to sit down together -
each parent, each child, individually –
and maybe with a few days ‘thinking time’ beforehand -
and say – you could take this in turns –
‘Ask me all the questions
which you never, until now, thought to ask...
ask me all the questions
which you never liked or dared to ask...
and I shall answer you…’
and if it goes well (as I pray it will)
you might even incorporate this
into a yearly family occasion:
done with humour and with love;
this is what I wish for you
as ardently as I would have
wished it for myself;
for this is my regret,
for myself; and perhaps, for them..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Sleep No Man Desires
There is a sleep no man desires
There is something about that sleep
That sends fear down the hearts of men
That world unknown yet revered by fear
That surrounds a man when he goes to sleep
It is the sleep of the tired women
It is the sleep of the defeated elands
It is the sleep that makes the hyenas laugh
It is the sleep that feeds the vultures
It is the sleep that no man loves
But is the eventual sleep for all that breaths
It is the sleep of paradise
A paradise so desired for good deeds on earth
Yet it is the sleep that hounds the aged and the poor
A sleep that embraces the dying
A sleep that knows no class
It is the silent sleep on angels' chariots
Take a pillow and courage to slip into it
Courage, be brave and face that sleep
That sleep that frightens the mighty
That sleep that is wild on eart
That sleep that has no path
That is hated and more than loathed
A sleep that captured great men of history
It is the sleep of the GONE.
poem by Major Elazia
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Artists usually don't make all that much money, and they often keep their artistic hobby despite the money rather than due to it.
quote by Linus Torvalds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Creative Soul Quite Out Of Sorts
creative soul quite out of sorts
are you really source defined
by what you have done?
remembered by what you have written?
does not forest, lakes, rivers,
windswept beaches, ocean tides,
ebb flow in kiwi artistic souls?
do you not hunger starve feel
beginnings are glory dawn chorus
with an eternal day sun bean streams
birth begging come write me?
past writes be they haka or poi songs
lilting lullaby soft night whispered blessings
stretching dark far back to jaw thigh bones
stretch dark far back to ancestor jaw thigh bones
ancestor blessings running sleeping
dream running in waking
eye infant sleep listening...
eye infant ancient sleep listening...
artistic walking time lines
artistic walking seed own time lines
hooks fishing catch spirit minds...
wear colour cloak rainbow bird feathers...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The music is a personal expression, like art. It is something that you like doing that comes from within, and is an expression that comes from God. That is why artists are beautiful and why people who copy are not really artistic.
quote by Michael Schenker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't think that artists of any kind would or could sacrifice their artistic freedom by being more responsible with their influence on people, especially young people.
quote by Christy Turlington
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was a particularly interesting and exciting time, and the European political and artistic establishment was turned on by the Civil Rights Movement and the artistic revolution that was becoming a part of jazz.
quote by Archie Shepp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dedicated to ppl who dont sleep
Sleep, sleep, sleep
It’s magnificent and nice,
With dreams beyond wonder,
Sleep! sleep! sleep!
Sleep, sleep, sleep
Eyes tightly closed,
A little smile on you r cheeks,
Feeling the ambiance
Of the pure and precious sleep,
Sleep! sleep! sleep!
Sleep, sleep, sleep
Forgetting insane things of the mixed world outside
Relax my dear, feel the gentle breeze,
Do not worry about tomorrow, do not weep,
Wake up fresh in the morning with a recuperate mind,
Fresh and blessed with a wonderful sleep,
SLEEP, SLEEP, SLEEP!
poem by Tejaswini Iyer
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Chasing Rainbows
Today, all day, my Irish leprechaun
We get our chance to catch you if we can.
You hold the secrets of hidden treasures.
This time we will use successful measures.
For most, we’ll sit in pubs all day and hunt
for you in greenish stout from favorite haunts
Along the way. What fools we mortals be
That think at rainbows end we’ll find the key
To gold and sundry riches in a pot.
Hah! All that’s found are fractured dreams and sots.
From time immemorial fools have tried
In vain to follow dreams of gold worldwide.
Thus, chasing dreams and dodgy rainbows
Makes one lose sight of what’s under your nose.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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