I try to construct a picture in which shapes, spaces, colors, form a set of unique relationships, independent of any subject matter. At the same time I try to capture and translate the excitement and emotion aroused in me by the impact with the original idea.
quote by Milton Avery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
No Poem Is An Original
No poem is an original
everyone who writes
poetry thinks their poem
was an original, it just so
happens that their poem just
surfaced to the top
of their mind first, so they
were able to write it.
Everyone has love, hate
compassion buried deep
in their soul.
Poets are able to bring
all of this to the surface,
to construct, add the words,
but it is not an original
idea, for the poet because
they wrote it now, it
becomes an original for them.
Who has not heard a song,
read a poem, story or book,
seen a movie and said,
to themselves, hey I had
that same idea.
Only thing is, someone else
brought it to the surface
of the mind, and wrote it first.
Even this poem I'm writing
now is not an original
someone out there
has this idea buried
deep in their soul.
So if you have an idea
for a poem, get busy
write it, don't wait,
or you won't write an original
start today,
don't delay.
wrote 2-2-07
Alphabet Spaces
In my mind rambles
ideas which seek to unscramble
and grant me crystal clear consistency
but the more I try to wrangle
ideas about Physics and Religion
the more they metamorphosize
into same and similar.
The more I learn about anything
the less I know about the whole
of any and all disciplines;
so I succumb to debates about
T's and I's
while forgetting my alphabet.
For example, if I take my own name
and examine it minutely,
space and letter
nano-space by nano-space
I cannot ever
see a whole word or letter.
Therefore, I come away nameless and confused.
So if I wish to learn the whole
of any disciple or subject-area
I have learned
best not to get too smart about
the spaces between the alphabets.
Yet, and this my conundrum, no letter
is ever apparent
unless there are spaces between Alpha and Omega.
So, too, music is a relationship between the sound and the silences-
too much music or sound is ultimately just noise or silence.
So in my mind rambles all these inconsistencies-
what about yours?
So we have the letters of an alphabet, and the spaces in between the letters
which are necessary to understand the words they form and from these empty spaces in between, much like silence and sound form music.
From this relationship we form the words and ultimately sentences, but note sentences alone do not form coherent paragraphs or pages for that matter and ultimately a book.
So what is the moral here? Pay attention to the background as well as the foreground, the seen and unseen since only from these relationships can we glean, true meaning:
too much concentration on the latter, and we miss the meaning embedded in the former.
True creativity means we are versatile in both and it is also the perfect metaphor for the differences and similarities between Science and Religion.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Art
No space and time
can capture real art
and every painting,
poem and song
needs wings to get flight.
Freedom from structure, type,
form and subject matter
is an essentiality for art
to be really great
since predictability brings dullness.
Make the artist free
to make every creation,
to be what it must be.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Picture Of Colors
A picture of colors
A purple forest of colors
A balloon of colors
A blue fantasy of colors
This is what our planet should be
A whirlwind of colors
A white world of colors
A resting place of colors
A red hideaway of colors
This is what it should look like
A ‘yes' world of colors
A yellow rainbow of colors
A graced hill of colors
A green meadow of colors
An overflowing basket of colors
An orange bowl of colors
This would be a perfect place
Subject matter that is not bound to reality offers more opportunity to write a unique story and cinematically present it in very unique ways.
quote by Richard King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Original You Are
People can judge your outer form
but that is not who you really are
you are unique, not in the norm.
Children are taught to be the same
well God didn't make us that way.
So celebrate who you are today
be proud you are original and
special no matter what they say.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 12,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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The Photograph (Gabriella At Four-And-A-Half)
I hold the latest surreptitiously gathered photograph of you,
Where you seem so very sad-As though looking through
The photograph, directly at me-
As if your smile was absconded by the Veterans' Day tragedy
That changed both of our lives forever, and surely, for worse-
Whose genesis is an enigma, though, surely, a curse!
These are the days that circumstance steals;
We are both ill-equipped to emote how our heart feels,
Given the travesty that has befallen us;
I ask God in prayer each night, when He will be callin' us
Back to one another, so that we are no longer familial strangers;
I know all to well, the inherent dangers
Of moving forward too swiftly, whilst ill-prepared.
This is why, in spite of a want which obviates, I have not dared
Reach out to you, in any form whatsoever,
Holding on instead, to a connection that time and space may not sever!
Namely, the bond between a Father and a Daughter;
You need me like flowers need water-
Contrariwise, I need you as they also need the Sun;
Until our consort's reprise, the battle is never done!
The photograph makes you as real as you will get, to me.
Until this injustice is righted, photographs are all I get, to see-
The only window I have into your world-
The only measure of the beauty, into which you have unfurled!
A picture may be worth a thousand words,
Yet, none spoken by you, which would gift boundless rewards.
It does not tell me what you learned today,
Nor measure your inherent joy, at the new, big word you learned to say;
It does not have a way to capture your unique laughter,
Nor measure ice cream cone jollity, nor the clean up, after!
It may not capture your wide-eyed wonder at Christmas time-
Yet, somehow, it evokes all the emotion of this rhyme!
-Maurice Harris,29 Agust 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Knowing nothing and fearing everything, they rant and rave and riot like so many maniacs. The subject does not matter. Any idea which gives them an excuse of getting excited will serve. They look for a victim to chivy, and howl him down, and finally lynch him in a sheer storm of sexual frenzy which they honestly imagine to be moral indignation, patriotic passion or some equally avowable emotion.
quote by Aleister Crowley
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Interpretation Of The New More Elaborate Story
To be read is to be interpreted.
By someone, somewhere.
With glassy eyes they do stare and compare.
A comparison can sometimes be seen as a disrespect in manner of speaking.
Better yet impersonating it with your own thoughts, with your own words, your own feelings could cause some to become enraged.
But isn't that what writing is?
An inspiration.
Shouldn't that make original writer proud.
Original being not as original as one thinks.
For they also got it from somewhere.
Words aren't just strung together and make sense.
If they were we would all do it.
An artist must first see something visually to paint a picture.
But how did he learn how to paint in the first place?
He started out by mimicking someone else.
Then he found his own technique.
His own style completely unique.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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You In My Poem
If I could paint a picture
and do it in a poem
I'd use beautiful colors
to brighten up my home.
My words would form a heart
so that I could view
all the beauty I feel you are
and how I picture you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I have a certain pool of subject matter that I like to write about, things that interest me: politics, religion, ecology, and relationships between men and women. And that's usually what I focus on.
quote by Don Henley
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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ODE TO A PiCtUrE
ODE To A PiCtUrE
Flash-
A Picture
One dimensional in size
Captures an
Image
A moment
in
Time-
A Picture
Works a
Miracle
And makes
Time-
Stand still-
Time-
Moves
As quickly as the
Wind
Is blocked
And made
Frozen
Constant
And
Still-
For One to
Admire a moment,
An Image which
Appears in Different
Shades of
Light…
A Picture
Brings back an
Emotion which
Pumps right through
The Heart-
A sensitive
Delicacy –
Often uncontrolled
And driven on its own
Can be ruled
And triggered
By a Flash-
A speck
Of
Light
With shattering
Colors-
Red,
Blue
And
Green…
A Picture
Not to be measured
In Space but more so
In Time
As it
Sits
Still-
Captured
In
An
Instant
Each
Image
Is
Traced
And
Held
Together
With
Shinny
Little
Sentiments…
Composed
As
Each
Expression
Is made
Visible
At the Palm
Of
One’s
Hand
Held-
Constant
Age less
Memories
Flow
Through
And
Begin to
Sing-
Of
What
Was-
Flash-
A Picture-
Whether it be
Darkness
Or
Lightness
Detections of different states of mind are seen
Emotional sensation in every bodily part
Tell truths of what has been-
A picture
Is cherished
And
Passed down the line-
To take part in the Memories
Once
Lived-
poem by Yvette Nario
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Only Paint The Picture Once
(Teddy Gentry/Randy Owen/Ronnie Rogers/Greg Fowler)
Look at those evening shadows
Casting a peaceful light
The sun is disappearing
It's a beautiful sight
Moments caught forever
By the master's touch
A lasting reminder
To us
You only paint the picture once
(And) you only get one chance
Take the time to do your best
While the brush is in your hand
Make sure it's just right
Before the colors dry
You can't change it once it's done
You only paint the picture once
Love is the canvas
That's where it all starts
A lifetime together
Becomes a work of art
Just look what's been created
Between your heart and mine
Oh I believe that we're one of a kind
You only paint the picture once
(And) you only get one chance
Take the time to do your best
While the brush is in your hand
Make sure it's just right
Before the colors dry
You can't change it once it's done
You only paint the picture once
It's a portrait of life
You can't live it twice
You only paint the picture once
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A love is eternal
Why love is considered as eternal?
Why it has so much impact as internal?
Why are we swept away in single stroke?
Why can’t it be hidden in thick smoke?
Yes, it is unique and uncontrollable
You think of only one world and capable
Everything moves on rightly as per your wish
You are the only species in pond as fish
Yes, it sends complete joy and makes us to dance
Though no one may observe it or glance
It has its own impact and relevance
It is purely accidental in its presence
What one should term it in any form?
No one can afford to remain ill informed
It is just feeling and comes from within
It is uncontrollable when completely filled in
World appears completely green in form of leaves
What it retains and what it releases?
No one may offer satisfaactory answer
The real answer may be lying with only fewer
It completely changes life style
You are in the air for a while
You move in cautious manner
Nothing appeals you any matter
It has offered you some way of living
You are led some thing in believing
Love has become assome source of aspiration
You have devoped deep and relation
It is going to be a reality soon
You are dreaming in hot afternoon
The world seems to you as completely fascinating
Something new in form of love is originating
Love has to survive and last long
You can’t be deceived or something can go wrong
It can’t prove night mare or end in dream
It is pure insight that will travel like beam
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Gift Of Sight
Is it a picture? No, it is not,
Your talent is amazing as talent can be,
Vibrant colors, shapes, whole lot,
I am blessed to be able to see.
What I see is a beautiful sight,
What I see is brush strokes might,
Transformation, the canvas white,
Imagination takes to flight.
A wondrous control of colors,
Show your immense labors,
A wondrous sight indeed,
Our eyes enriched, you feed.
We Are Original
We are all original,
We are all unique,
Let the Lord bless us
When we close our eyes to sleep.
Let us prayer for world prosperity
And also world peace.
We are original,
We are unique.
Copyright 1998 & 2010 Suzae Chevalier
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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The figure is still the only thing I have faith in in terms of how much emotion it's charged with and how much subject matter is there.
Emotion
Look up
Look down
I've seen it all before
I need emotion
Look left
Look right
I've tried it all before
I need emotion
Say nothing
It's over
I sold my soul
Forever
She's tempting
Sex tension
It could be the wrong move
One question
One answer
I don't need
Exposure
I don't know
The slogan
New fashion kills me
Fashion
Tear it up
It don't mean a thing so
Fashion
Tear it up good
Touch me
Picture this
It don't mean a thing so
Touch me
Life is cruel
How did this ever get serious?
One night
One touch
I've used them all before
I need emotion
One lie
Too much
I've heard it all before
I need emotion
I'll show you
Religion
Some people
Disgust me
Listen to
Opinion
I'm in a glass house
'i've been sick'
She whispers
Abandon
Nostalgia
Remember
My picture
I only work here
I need emotion
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I like historical pieces. History was my favorite subject in school, it was the only subject I excelled in. I love the idea of history and the idea that we may have the opportunity to learn from our past mistakes.
quote by Cary Elwes
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Process Of Selection....
on the other hand,
if everything is fiction, then what could possibly
be not?
the possibilities of words
they are not just in random picked by some foolish gods
and given a form
and the slightest idea connected to a certain
belief in
meaning
well, there will always be the justification of an experience
that something like this once happened but that the recollection is
not clear anymore
part bird, part lion, wings or hands,
did it have a horn, or a halo?
the images argue among themselves and
as a matter of compromise
the mind puts everything in a collage
a jigsaw puzzle
until a picture is formed
and from a distance you take a look at it
a little bit true and a little bit false
but still sending a message
something happened a long time ago
you fear remembering it
you abstract
take only those colors that you like
those words that please you
those faces that give you love
those hands that once caressed you
you throw away those that hurt
what is the use of keeping them?
unless you are the masochist god
the object of the furies
the numb flesh
the dead fly
the carcass, that dung, that scar.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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