I felt I was painting with a Popsicle.
quote by Robert Merrill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.
quote by Leonardo da Vinci
Submitted by Catalin Popescu
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Popsicle
(chorus)
Youre my pop-si-cle!
From the very first time I met you, girl, you captured me
Youre my pop-si-cle!
All I know is that you make me feel so fancyfree.
Gonna love you for a lifetime
And I know youre gonna love me too
You make me feel, feel so real
And it feels so good, through and through
Sweeter than candy
Better than cake
And everytime we kiss
It feels oh so great
Girl, cant you see?
Youre the one, youre the one for me!
Chorus
When I call you up on my favorite party line
You sound so sweet, girl. youre blowing my mind
Our love is much better than any other I know
And it keeps on growing, more and more
Girl, cant you see?
Youre the one, youre the one for me!
Chorus
Pop pop pop pop pop popsicle!
Hey, hey, little girl with your pretty dress on
Ive been wanting you to want me for my whole life long
You knock me off my feet, girl, youre a super treat
When I see you in the street you make my heart skip a beat
Youre the one who makes me feel alright
When I look into your eyes, you know youre really out of sight
Im for you and youre for me
We could stay together so easily
Pop pop pop pop pop popsicle!
Girl, cant you see?
Youre the one, youre the one for me!
Chorus
Pop pop pop pop pop popsicle!
Repeat to fade out
song performed by by New Kids On The Block
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well, let's say we acknowledged the School of French Painting - the Paris School of painting as the leading force and vitality of the time. I think that was understood and felt and experienced.
quote by Lee Krasner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Painting The Walls
painting the walls,
rolling over handprints,
cobwebs, and smoke stains....
over splashes of color,
over peels of time.
painting over the sounds
of voices whispering, laughing....
painting over tears hidden
from the world, from each other.
painting over running, and working,
working all day and half the night.
painting over children, and dreams,
folded like old clothes, and put away.
painting over notes from God,
that were often barely noticed...
painting over the nail that held
up the clock, hands moving slowly,
turning the seasons of living....
painting over the final words,
the last breath held in the hands,
of lives written in the grain....
the testimony of each feeling....
painting the walls,
and brushing the corners,
as if we never lived!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Fit In, We're Going
here comes the sun, is a cliche.
i put a spell on you, is another cliche.
i think i love you, most abused cliche.
you complete me, movie cliche,
strawberry fields,
scents of magnolia, fresh and soothing,
vanilla ice cream,
chocolate Popsicle,
mint puffs,
and cotton candy, and black forest.
coca-cola and ice cubes,
inside a glass
against the summer sun
your lips sucking the straw
your face covered with my shadow.
i am no longer conscious about their
taboos
got mine, and i like it
when i am finally free.
i store more cliches and
lick them
like Popsicle on a hot
summer day.
no hard feelings. Just fit in.
we're going.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Popsicle
Im hanging round the airport
Im waiting for the plane
Mmmmm - something sweet and sticky
Runnindown my hand
Popsicle of love
Gimme gimme gimme one of those
(its summertime, boy!)
Coconut delight
Honey honey honey dont let go
(its summertime, love)
Mmm - a kinky little sister
Mmm - a-wearin rubber gloves
A sexual health emergency
A copulation fantasy
You and me, ecstasy
Hate to be reality
Popsicle of love
Gimme gimme gimme one of those (hoo!)
(its summertime, boy!)
Im taking off my clothes
Honey honey honey dont let go
(its summertime, love)
Ask - it shall be given
Pay - and ye shall receive
Cigarettes and pantyhose
Hit me in the funnybone
Hynie hole tootsie roll
Jelly roll time to go
Popsicle of love
Gimme gimme gimme one of those
(its summertime, boy!)
Coconut delight
Honey honey honey dont let go
(its summertime, love)
Im throwing up my hands
Buddy buddy - whats wrong with you
(ts summertime, boy!)
Im blowing up my mind
Lemme lemme see what I can do
(its summertime, boy!)
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Modesty is high in view.
A painting free of cost;
A painting with a tag;
A painting not for sale;
The third soars high in view.
24.10.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I needed an outlet in high school and came across painting. I've actually been painting longer than I've been acting. A movie is a collaborative effort, and with painting you just have yourself.
quote by James Franco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But when I worked on a painting I would do it from a drawing but I would put certain things I was fairly sure I wanted in the painting, and then collage on the painting with printed dots or painted paper or something before I really committed it.
quote by Roy Lichtenstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There’s a big painting
There’s a big painting of a girl
with a light pink skin
that lies on a white skin cloak
in front of a dark pool,
where snow white water lilies drifts
and I can see into her soul.
I have felt like taking the fan
next to her
and to wave her cool
yet she looks fragile
and self-possessed and calm,
where she lies with her peach pink dress
looking at me
and I wonder for whom she is waiting
and why the door behind her
of which the steps goes into the pool
are always locked?
[Reference: Painting of a girl at a pool by Mandi. See the painting at my webpage: http: //www.mabooki.com/poems/display/1412_There_is_a_b ig_painting.htm]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Art Will Show To Eternity Your Soul
I am a woman, using a mirror everyday,
Like all of you, i'm seeing my reflection into it,
Even i am sad, happy, tired or bored,
What i'm seeing in my mirror it's my physical reality, my own truth.
I combed my hair and looked into my mirror,
I felt so delicate, unique and simple,
Having a smile on my face today,
My mirror will smile me back as feedback in same way.
I am a painter, i adore art,
In everything i'm painting it's life,
In each painting and spot of paint my brush does,
It's a history of great ideas my minds holds.
A painting is a gate to our inner side,
Through it vibrates the universe to our hearts,
A mirror will always show your face reflection to the world,
But art will show to eternity your soul.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Best Is Yet To Come Undone
It's behind you and
It's in your face
Close your eyes
Selling years of their
Smoke and mirrors and
Open minds
And they try to find a way to make me something that
I'm not
I touched the world
I felt the sun
I know the best is yet to come undone
I looked around
At everyone
I know the best is yet to come undone
The best is yet to come undone
It's so obvious
That the promise
Keeps me here
Painting pictures where
All the colors Disappear And they try to find a way to make me something that I'm not
I touched the world
I felt the sun
I know the best is yet to come undone
I looked around
At everyone
I know the best is yet to come undone
The best is yet to come undone
The best is yet to come undone
And I find my way out
And I find my way out
It's so obvious
That the promise
Keeps me here
Painting pictures where
All the colors Disappear
And they try to find a way to make me something that I'm not
I touched the world
I felt the sun
I know the best is yet to come undone
I looked around
At everyone
I know the best is yet to come undone
Touched the world
Felt the sun
I know the best is yet to come undone
I looked around
At everyone
I know the best is yet to come undone
The best is yet to come undone
The best is yet to come undone
song performed by by Lit from A Place In The Sun
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I'm painting the picture, I'm really painting a picture. I may have a flat-footed technique, or something like that, but still, to me, the thrill, or the meat of the thing, is the actual painting. I don't get any thrill out of laying it out.
quote by Frank Stella
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond the Art
Dad only had a month to live.
I peeked in to tell them goodnight.
Mom was painting. She stopped to give
Me a kiss. 'Your Dad will be all right.'
Next morning, both my folks were gone.
Perhaps they went out for some air.
Mom's new painting was sitting on
Its easel. Mom's class touch was there.
Mom's grace, Dad's strength - what a combo,
For forty years, husband and wife.
I touched the canvas. Where'd they go?
And then the painting came to life.
A couple walked along the sea.
Mom and Dad smiled and waved to me.
My parents felt that acting was far too insecure. Don't ask me what made them think that painting would be more secure.
You know, the way art history is taught, often there's nothing that tells you why the painting is great. The description of a lousy painting and the description of a great painting will very much sound the same.
quote by Chuck Close
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shoe Salesman
I know a shoe salesman
He's an acquaintance of mine
One day he showed me some
Marks on his arm in a line
I did not know what to say
"Do you think those freckles will stay?"
I need a popsicle
Do you want lemon or lime
I've got a special today
If you've got the time
Winking
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Is Repin Painting Monet?
why is repin
painting monet
why is not repin
painting repin
or why is not monet
painting monet
or they're just
making a team
in this day
very sunny day
in the south
south of beauty
oh beauty
beauty named france
france of that field
the sunflower field
oh making
making for a painting
a painting for price
a price for bread
bread for respect
respect for van gogh
van gogh for a day
a day for painting
painting for words
words for us
and us for them
and them are only
only and just
just se7en words
'we all are brothers
brothers
in love'
poem by Ahmed Khaled
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Pose
He looked at the painting,
his lover in the nude.
And as he stared
it always changed his mood.
Young and frail
but still a delight.
He looked at the painting
on every night.
He remembered the pose
as if yesterday,
provocative it was,
her eyes far away.
Were they remembering
the brush strokes used
or the feel of his hand
and how they fused
together as one
when the pose was over.
Now all that was left
was the painting,
not the lover.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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