I was worried in the '80s that the best abstract painting had become obsessed with materiality, and painterly gestures and materiality were up against the wall.
quote by Frank Stella
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Before
Great Masters existed before Earth was created;
Before all was brought into existence
They stood chin high in wisdom
Before materiality, they knew what it was
like to be trapped inside matter
Before the body, they’d lived many lifetimes
Before seeds, they ate bread from harvest grain
Before oceans, they strung pearls
Where can you find such a Great Master?
Look within
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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untitled abstract painting of Custer's Last Stand
Untitled abstract painting of Custer’s last stand
an abstract painting of custer’s last stand
Hangs in the Montana Museum of Modern Art
A fish with a halo and many Indians mating
And no name tag makes this painting, stand apart
Montanans know the title of this portrait
Although no name tag is shown
Yet, as the gaze falls upon it
the title is intuitively known,
the last words that were spoken
from this famous man’s mouth
As the battle of the Big horn
Began to go south
Oddly enough, as in the painting
his last words were not prayer
Though the words; “copulation and Indians, “
“Fish And Holy, “ were there.
The title of the painting and Custer’s last words
Weren’t from Romans or Corinthians.
They were simply “Holy Mackerel
Look at all the F#@*in’ Indians
poem by David Whalen
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We Are Worried
We are worried
Our once prosperous land
Is now a beggar
We are worried
Our incandescent light
Is now blurred
We are worried
Love no longer co-habits
On our wide streets
We are worried
That brothers slaughter brothers
All in the name of God
We are worried
How vultures prey
On our commonwealth
We are worried
The gap gets wider
Between the rich and the poor
We are worried
About our youths
Whose destinies are bleak.
We are worried
That the ship may sink
Like the titanic.
We are worried
We do not know who to trust
We are worried of many things
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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This Culture Of Impunity
This culture of impunity,
Raising up lack of unity,
Killing all the art of creativity,
Disregarding the countries majority,
Letting the country in hands of stupidity,
A people with no activity,
This culture of impunity,
One that is killing humanity,
Killing each other in the community,
A government of totality,
One that forgets society,
Breaching all the arts of morality,
This culture of impunity,
One that has forgotten reality,
Embracing mediocrity,
Leading to future uncertainty,
Activating public liability,
But concealing its materiality,
This culture of impunity.
poem by Maselo George
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Abstract painting is abstract. It confronts you. There was a reviewer a while back who wrote that my pictures didn't have any beginning or any end. He didn't mean it as a compliment, but it was.
quote by Jackson Pollock
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Introduction to a post-conceptual poetry
AFTER CONCEPTUALISM, MATERIALITY AND CONCEPTUALITY HAS NO TENSION BUT ONLY MOEMNT-TO-MOMENT CONTEMPLATION ON REAL AND ACTUAL REALITY-REALITY-DISSPPEARANCE-PREJUDICES INSIGHT.WOW!
THIS IS WHAT I CALL 'UNCREATIVE MEDICINE! ! ! ! ! ! !
a POST-CONCEPTUAL POETRY IS UNCREATIVE MEDICINE FOR CREATIVE CONCEPTUAL BOREDOM! ! ! ! ! POSTING CONTEMPORARY INTO THE BORDER-AWARENESS OF CONCEPTUALISM TO GET OUT OF THE TRAP OF CONCEPTUAL FRAME OR TESTING THE CONCEPTUAL FRAME.WHAT IS A CONCEPT?
NOV 10,2010
YANGON, MYANMAR
CRAZY FOX INTERNET CAFE
I Want To Live On An Abstract Plain
Ive had it with this town
I never saw those shifting skies
I never saw the ground
Or the sunset rise
I want to live on an abstract plane
Im building a frame
A place to put my ten-yard stare
Thinking of that paint
Painted in plein-air
I want to live on an abstract plane
I need a new adress
I want some new terrain
Is it north or south?
I want to live on an abstract plain
I could sit on the roof
On top of that abstract house
See my abstract view
An abstract mouse
I want to live on an abstract plane
I need a new adress
Tell me Im not insane
Is it up or down?
I want to live on an abstract plane
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trusting No Light
you wrap my body with your breasts
and i face the pillow my body presses
on the softness of materiality, you run
your fingers on my arms looking for
the secrets of my flesh, and i keep my
hands steady on the railing of the bed.
you whisper to my ear the tradition that
in true love there are no more secrets.
i smile to the white linen and i close my
eyes back to the horrors of my pasts.
you put your chin on my shoulder and
you kiss my hair and you caress my
head and neck down to my hip and butt.
you kiss me again and you signal that i
now must face you in this intimacy. And
i look at you and gently i kiss you in return.
I am Cupid and you are Psyche. I must tell
you again, i trust no light. Love exists
by itself, through itself, for itself, & in-itself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An Abstract painting
My eyes fall on an abstract painting
of which my girlfriend,
wants to paint a series
that may hang in board halls
and offices.
There’s something hot and alive
in the background
that changes from golden yellow,
to flame orange
and flows into black red
and a green line
runs from the foreground
into the horizon.
With strong straight lines wood,
and sink plate shacks appear
with horizontal and vertical lines
and it looks like a squatter camp,
or the houses of a headman
in the country.
To me it looks like drums and large tin cans
that lies around in the front
and a big old TV set
with sitting places round it
and at the back,
there are two wooden pens
to keep in sheep and goats.
Maybe there’s red sand
on the one side
and yellow and green grass
for grazing on the other side,
but honestly I do not want to stay
in such a place.
[Reference: Abstract painting by Mandi. Look at the painting on my mabooki webpage: http: //www.mabooki.com/poems/display/1416_An_Abstract_ painting.htm]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Am I obsessed with death?
Stroking a head of a snake
Feeling a tiger’s breath
Am I obsessed with death?
Am I obsessed with death?
Daydreaming while crossing a street
of life that I want to have
Am I obsessed with death?
Am I obsessed with death?
When shit start hitting fans
at results I will quietly laugh
Am I obsessed with death?
Am I obsessed with death?
Laying sick on a bed of death
I will cling to what I still have
I simply enjoy the life
Don’t care about death
Jan 12,2010
poem by Slava Olchevski
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Reasons For Rapture
there were reasons for rapture
more are coming and the heart merely listens
weak, and submissive to the speed of the
brain's efficient delights: logic, pertinence,
materiality, relevance,
reason brags, a smooth line, without curves,
a stare of the eyes, unblinking to emotions,
if this is this, then this must be that,
and given the facts, these are the only
possibilities, nothing obscure, nothing absurd,
and everything went on smoothly like a jet
propulsion creating a smoke sort of impression
on the clouds on that clear day when you held
your hand at the tip of your cap, solid and stable,
on the day of the hearts, where can reason be?
you receive no calls, no text, no card, this is passe,
no rose, no email, no greetings from the gate or
the path where you pass your life, tears flow like
regret that came late, always late, well, this is not
the end, you are strong, you know what to do,
embrace reason again, and feel like a new machine.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Windy Hope But Steady Vision
somethimes it seems to be shaking
sometimes it seems to be ruining
sometimes it seems to be happy
but
existence is not sometimes
it is so much quotidian that we don't even know it is quotidian.
non-homan experience
computational intelligence
cognitive unconsciousness
frame is already embodied
truth is public
public is no truth
alienation of quotation
otherness of quotation marks
quotationmarks in quotation marks
meaning is a ghost comiong back to primal origin
but originality is in the materiality of comptemplating mental formations embodied inside the body on the borderline
of spectcular mix-up of concepts and passion
meaning is just a part os participated reality
running away from culivation of wisdom literally called enlightened spirit
contemporary existence is quotidian forms of a multi-styled thought before events
People can get obsessed with romance, they can get obsessed with political paranoia, they can get obsessed with horror. It's isn't the fault of the subject matter that creates the obsession, I don't think.
quote by Adam Arkin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A vase of flowers
I saw a vase of purple-pink roses
lying on your dark brown buffet
and simply had to have it.
“Who painted this, ” I immediately enquired
loving the picture more with each look
that I took of it
as it’s not your thing
to paint still life’s with flowers.
“I painted it. It’s like painting pillow slips, ”
you replied and astonished
I looked at it again
and this was on board
and not in water colours
but done with oil paint.
The folds of the cups were edged
in ridges along their lines
using the techniques
of your abstract paintings
and one smaller unopened bud
laid next to the bowl
almost running into your name.
Little pink flowers was in the background
where the transparent vase with green stems
was against the wall on a tiled floor.
[Reference: Vase with roses by Mandi Engelbrecht. (This painting belongs to me.) ]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Z-Monoku-Speed
Making the things to look the same like an indefinite colored abstract painting.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Antiques wanted and we pay cash!
We accept old paintings & lithographs
Jewelry, Furniture and fine Asian stuff.
I sent them a letter in registered post.
Really an Asian pedigree
Aryan, a Bohemian!
Eager to hand over my skeletal body
Half burnt and the rest smother
It's like an abstract painting.
You could use as a sculpture or a wall hanging
If not could be easily auctioned to New Egypt
As a modern mummy!
*Enclosing my photograph and relevant documents for your kind perusal
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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When the painting is hanging on your wall for a long time, you don't notice it. You get tired of it, even if it's a Picasso. When the next generation inherits the painting, they sell it. I don't want to be sold.
quote by Julio Iglesias
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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And also the new excitement and variety of ways that the abstract expressionists were applying paint. You could put it on as though it were colored air and it would be painting.
quote by Robert Rauschenberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Takes A Worried Man
Oh it takes a worried man, sing a worried song
Takes a worried man, come sing a little worried song
Well it takes a worried man to sing a worried song
Im worried now, wont be worried long
I went down to the riverside and I laid me down to sleep
Went down to the riverside, laid me down to sleep, lord
A-well I went down to the riverside, laid me down to sleep
When I woke up there were shackles on both-a my feet
Hit it!
(chorus)
It takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
It takes a worried man (come) to sing a worried song
Yeah, it takes a worried man, yeah, to sing a worried song
Im worried now but I wont be worried long
Worry for me!
(instrumental)
I said, judge (judge) judge, whats a-gonna be my fine?
I said, judge (judge) judge (judge) tell me whats gonna be my fine?
I said, judge (judge) judge (judge) tell me whats gonna be my fine?
He said, twenty-one years (oh) on that old rock island line
Oh well it takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
Takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
Yeah, it takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
Im worried now, but I wont be worried long
Sing it one more time!
It takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
It takes a worried man, to sing a worried song, my lord
It takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
Im worried now, but I wont be worried long
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lesson
Our love has chosen its appropriate gesture
Which when viewed in the midst of all the gestures
It didn't choose seems almost insignificant.
The gesture our love has chosen is appropriate
We both agree not that we have any choice but
Amidst all those others does seem insignificant.
Is it incumbent on us thus to therefore obliterate
All of the gestures except this insignificant one
Chosen by our love for its own no doubt reasons.
It is up to us to obliterate all other gestures
Though they cluster round thick as presentations
Of war and sacrifice in a gradeschool classroom.
Use of our love's chosen gesture for the obliteration
Of all those foreign gestures is forbidden however
We must find something else to erase them with.
Our love has chosen its appropriate gesture
Which when viewed in the absence of all other gestures
Seems to spell the opposite of insignificant.
poem by Bill Knott
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