Anyone who sees and paints a sky green and fields blue ought to be sterilized.
quote by Adolf Hitler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Painting For Hitler
Anyone who paints the meadow blue
And the sky green with yellow clouds
Should be sterilized or executed,
Adolf Hitler said.
For many years I waited with a response to that.
Finally on a spring morning I took a canvas and
With slow and measured brushstrokes I painted
The sky green with yellow clouds
And the meadow blue.
I did this not only as a symbolical act
Of defiance but also in reply to the present day
Followers of the Nazi dictator who continue
To admire and worship him.
Prior to his rise to power Adolf painted
Nostalgic landscapes. He also designed
The Nazi flag in which he reversed
The ancient Hindu and Buddhist icon
Of the swastika from a symbol of peace
To a symbol of violence and hatred.
As the supreme military commander
Of the Reich he liked to impress his minions
By quoting from memory encyclopaedic data
Such as the exact tonnage of each warship of
Every nation. However, General Franz Halder
Described Hitler as a grotesque neurotic
Who gave irrational orders. The fuehrer wanted
To outperform Napoleon and in the process
Fifty million people died in Europe.
Six million of them were Jews.
This monstrous criminal of history also posed
As art theorist although he failed to grasp
The principle of artistic freedom. He forbade
Aesthetic experimentation and raged at signs
Of the flight of imagination. He feared the idea
Of liberating perception from the tight hold of
Appearances because we can see what we cannot
See only through the unique eye of the free artist.
Anyone who paints the meadow blue
And the sky green with yellow clouds
Should be sterilized, or executed,
Hitler said on October 15,1933 in Munich
In a cornerstone laying speech
For the House of German Art.
The dictator confiscated the right to see
The world in a different way than he saw it.
An ignoramus, Hitler was evidently unaware
Of the stunning colour phenomena of nature.
He did not know or ignored that often times
Before violent thunderstorms strike
The sky does display hues of green
In the visible electromagnetic spectrum
With a wavelength of about 510 nanometres.
Also depending on the position of the sun
And weather conditions in an electric sky
The clouds can appear yellow
With a visible electromagnetic wavelength
Of about 570 nanometres on the spectrum.
Those who look for them can find
Every tint and shade in the firmament.
When rainbows appear in the sky they play
Magnificent symphonies of all the hues
And colours ranging from red through violet.
And the earth itself abounds
In an infinite scale and wealth of colours.
Amid distant memories of sweet fragrances
I remember red summer fields of poppy seeds
Blooming cobalt chicories and indigo oat grasses
As the sun was traversing high in the sky
A loyal companion to my walk through
Lavender irises and purple periwinkles
In wild-flower strewn blue meadows.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Nature Paints
Nature Paints
Nature paints the sky in blue,
Then adds the fluffy spots of white
Which sometimes hide the fuel
Of fiery sphere - light
A relief that gives a gracious smile
Nature paints the high mountains green
An emerald of an incline climb
Extending stairway to heavenly dreams,
The peak is in a target's reach
Our nature paints the dark stained soil
A symbol for our hard day's toil
What in its core does treasure hides?
Seek the rainbow you will find
All colors that our artist binds
Copyright © 2012
poem by Godfrey Morris
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July Paints of Winter
July paints masterpieces
kissing my canvas with lively breezy strokes
July paints what she sees
adding intrigue to yellow folks
She paints a cold numbing winter
adding icicles on Christchurch trees
She paints a briskly Tasman salty sea
Sitting at a window overlooking her muse
July can't see colour til summer’s shines it's hues
poem by ArmourQuill Hunter
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Very Early Spring
The fields are snowbound no longer;
There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green.
The snow has been caught up into the sky--
So many white clouds--and the blue of the sky is cold.
Now the sun walks in the forest,
He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers;
They shiver, and wake from slumber.
Over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls.
Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears....
A wind dances over the fields.
Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter,
Yet the little blue lakes tremble
And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Across the Green Fields
Across the green fields
Up on the bluffs
High into the sky
A place I didn’t realize existed
Montana
Yes green
Once in a drought
It now is green from pounding rain.
God’s country again
It looks like a different place
No brown desert prairies
No desolate fields
It’s green now
A beautiful velvety green.
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Blue Wall / Green Wall
What comes to my mind when I see a green wall?
A green wall reminds me of the grass so green
And the emerald most rarely seen
A green wall reminds me of the leaves so green
And a forest where I have never been
A green wall reminds me of trees with a lot of shade
And the fresh vegetables kept for trade.
What comes to my mind when I see a blue wall?
It reminds me of the sea so blue
I feel like jumping in it too
A blue wall reminds me of the blue sky
You can’t touch it cause it’s very high
A blue wall reminds me of the deep blue bear
It is very dangerous so beware
A blue wall reminds me of a blue whale
To reach it from the shore you have to sail.
poem by Risha Ahmed
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Green Fields And Running Brooks
Ho! green fields and running brooks!
Knotted strings and fishing-hooks
Of the truant, stealing down
Weedy backways of the town.
Where the sunshine overlooks,
By green fields and running brooks,
All intruding guests of chance
With a golden tolerance,
Cooing doves, or pensive pair
Of picnickers, straying there--
By green fields and running brooks,
Sylvan shades and mossy nooks!
And--O Dreamer of the Days,
Murmurer of roundelays
All unsung of words or books,
Sing green fields and running brooks!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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The Window
She looks out in the blue morning
and sees a whole wonderful world
she looks out in the morning
and sees a whole world
she leans out of the window
and this is what she sees
a wet rose singing to the sun
with a chorus of red bees
she leans out of the window
and laughs for the window is high
she is in it like a bird on a perch
and they scoop the blue sky
she and the window scooping
the morning as if it were air
scooping a green wave of leaves
above a stone stair
and an urn hung with leaden garlands
and girls holding hands in a ring
and raindrops on an iron railing
shining like a harp string
an old man draws with his ferrule
in wet sand a map of Spain
the marble soldier on his pedestal
draws a stiff diagram of pain
but the walls around her tremble
with the speed of the earth the floor
curves to the terrestrial center
and behind her the door
opens darkly down to the beginning
far down to the first simple cry
and the animal waking in water
and the opening of the eye
she looks out in the blue morning
and sees a whole wonderful world
she looks out in the morning
and sees a whole world.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Paints Life Theme Canvas
research scientist
paints water colours
paints poetry brush strokes
paints poetry beaker pigment
paints life theme canvas
research insistent
poem by Terence George Craddock
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When Life Is Gone
When life is gone
No one remains in this place
Till the end of time
When life is gone
The world will be a desolate wasteland
Where only the dead remain
To soil the green fields of love and light
Forever green
When life disappears
The dead remain
The fields run red with blood
Of wars gone past and wars to be
The fields are green all is gone
All is dead
The fields are gone
The world is gone
poem by kelly Martini
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Lapis Lazuli
The testimony of the blue
It paints the king and queen
The royal dresses
And a never completely sung
Jewel of the word
Lapis lazuli
Ink spilled into
Rorschach spots on the eye
It observes the blue at the bottom of the blue
The edges of the sky it paints in blue
And all the colours of the blue
Rising from the ground
Lapis lazuli
Seals the hands boughed in hope
The feet that go down to the root of soil
The eyes that open the butterfly restlessness
And the hair swaying on the scales of freedom
Lapis lazuli
Is the colour that walks
Within the sacred number
From one to two that makes three
In verse never completely sung
Jewel of diversity
In the strength of unity
A throne that can never be dethroned
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Blue (Da Ba De)
yo listen up here's a story
about a little guy that lives in a blue world
and all day and all night and everything he sees
is just blue like him inside and outside
blue his house with a blue little window
and a blue corvette
and everything is blue for him and hisself
and everybody around
cos he ain't got nobody to listen to
i'm blue da ba dee da ba die...
i have a blue house with a blue window.
blue is the colour of all that i wear.
blue are the streets and all the trees are too.
i have a girlfriend and she is so blue.
blue are the people here that walk around
song performed by by Eiffel 65 from Europop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Ireland Wore the Green
BY RIGHT of birth in southern land I send my warning forth.
I see my country ruined by the wrongs that damned the North.
And shall I stand with fireless eyes and still and silent mouth
While Mammon builds his Londons on the fair fields of the South?
CHORUS:
O must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall we wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, we will wear our colour still,
As Ireland wore the green!
I see the shade of poverty fall on each sunny scene.
And slums and alley-ways extend where fields were evergreen.
There is a law that stamps the flower of freedom as it springs;
And this upon a soil that’s trod by prouder feet than kings’.
And must I hide my colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall I wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland swore the green!
Aye, I will wear my colour yet,
As Ireland wore the green!
Out there beyond the lonely range our fathers toiled for years
’Neath all the hardships that beset true-hearted pioneers;
And our brave mothers journeyed there to do the work of men
On those great awful plains that were unfit for women then.
Then must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall we wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland swore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, we shall wear our colour still,
As Ireland wore the green!
O shall the fields our fathers won be yielded to the few
Who never touched the axe or spade, and hardships never knew?
Shall lordly robbers rule the land and build their mansions high,
And ladies flaunt their jewelled plumes where our brave mothers lie?
O must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammnon’s spleen?
Or shall the wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, the will wear our colour yet,
As Ireland wore the green!
What though our stalwart fathers came from every land on earth,
We will be loyal to the land that gives our children birth.
We’ll show our banner to the sun—the Southern Cross displayed—
And join our strength together for the home our fathers made.
Let cowards hide their colour
For fear of Mammon’s spleen!
But I will wear my bonnie blue
As Ireland swore the green!
As Ireland swore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, I will wear my colour still,
As Ireland swore the green!
We’ll light the lamp of hope above the alley and the slum,
And teach the poor and drill them for the war that is to come.
We’ll send our songs recruiting far beneath the western sky,
And wake the towns and let them know the day of deeds is nigh.
And the twill wear our colour
In spite of Mammon’s spleen!
O the will wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green!
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, the will wear our colour yet,
As Ireland wore the green!
poem by Henry Lawson
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Blue
yo listen up here's a story
about a little guy that lives in a blue world
and all day and all night and everything he sees
is just blue like him inside and outside
blue his house with a blue little window
and a blue corvette
and everything is blue for him and hisself
and everybody around
cos he ain't got nobody to listen to
i'm blue da ba dee da ba die...
i have a blue house with a blue window.
blue is the colour of all that i wear.
blue are the streets and all the trees are too.
i have a girlfriend and she is so blue.
blue are the people here that walk around,
blue like my corvette, it's standing outside.
blue are the words i say and what i think.
blue are the feelings that live inside me.
i'm blue da ba dee da ba die...
song performed by by Eiffel 65
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Earth Safe
Death paints darkness at noon
Earth not feared of death
Death paints darkness at noon
Sun shines sky so bright
Death paints darkness at noon
unkind eyes dark so blind
Volcanoes erupt, whirl winds kill
Towers collapse thousands peril
Terrors kill, humans destroy
Death paints darkness at noon
Earth not feared of death
Rivers flow, Oceans flow
Nature green, universe calm
Earth safe, safer than ever....
September 4,2008
poem by Rema Prasanaa
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Green.
Green are the valleys
green are the fields
green are the forests and long rolling hills
green like the shamrock and eyes with a smile
green as old Ireland
The emerald isle.
poem by Charles M. Moore
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The Woodsman In The Foundry
WHERE the trolley's rumble
Jars the bones,
He hears waves that tumble
Green-linked weed along the golden stones.
Where the crane goes clanging
Chains and bars,
He sees branches hanging
Little leaves against the laughing stars.
Where the molten metals
Curdle bright,
He sees cherry petals
Fallen on blue violets in the night.
When the glow is leaping
Redly hurled,
He sees roses sleeping,
Forest-roses in a windy world.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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A Different Slant
from my gallery of faces
he has the softest eyes
I have ever seen,
watery and doe full
is it compassion and empathy
that I see,
or some rheumy humor
bathing the scene
all doubts are washed away
by the sonorous baritone,
the soft and delicate tones
of interest and feeling
and a shy smile,
now I know what
she sees in him,
the seas and oceans,
green fields,
skies blue,
and merry meadows
too,
they are his sun
and her moon
a divine dance of
heavenly bodies
admiring and
circling each other
with a love that lives
breathing a notalgia
an infinty at echoes
poem by Shimon Weinroth
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Green Sky
One time, I asked the shooting stars
So that they swam in the green sky
So that no one can contaminated them
Like what just happened in the blue sky
That cotton cloud was taste so sweet
When they flew in the green sky
When birds still can ate them
Like when that didn't happen in the blue sky
I saw my reflection on the river flow
So beautiful when the green sky is behind me
So bright the reflection is
Like used in the blue sky
I don't know when we would meet
It may be never
But I want to try to see you
I don't want they regret what they have done
Because they never have meet you, green sky
poem by Renaisan Esaeliem
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White... is not a mere absence of colour; it is a shining and affirmative thing, as fierce as red, as definite as black... God paints in many colours; but He never paints so gorgeously, I had almost said so gaudily, as when He paints in white.
quote by Gilbert K. Chesterton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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