Portrait
As I gaze blink-less
At the bare beauty of your persona
Behind the thin satin coat
Your portrait steps out alive
Out of the golden frame.
Your portrait generates
A multitude of elemental emotions,
Some romantically elusive like fluttering butterflies,
Others tangible like love-making,
Yet some others audible like the dying cadence
Of a stringed music played on my lyre.
Am churned by the immaculate portrait
Like the ocean
And I deliver nectar and parijat
From the dark womb of my private secrecy.
I owe it to your portrait timeless,
As I take the yet-to-be christened
Eleventh incarnation of Indian pantheon
Embodying love and truth
With an assured confidence.
Related quotes
It is not likely that posterity will fall in love with us, but not impossible that it may respect or sympathize; so a man would rather leave behind him the portrait of his spirit than a portrait of his face.
quote by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tomb of Lanis
The Lanis you loved, Markos, isn't here
in this tomb you come to weep by, lingering hours on end.
The Lanis you loved is closer to you
when you're in your room at home and you look at his portrait—
the portrait that still keeps something of what was valuable in him,
something of what it was you used to love.
Remember, Markos, that time you brought in
the famous Kyrenian painter from the Proconsul's palace?
What artistic subtlety he used trying to persuade you both,
the minute he saw your friend,
that he absolutely must do him as Hyacinth.
In that way his portrait would come to be better known.
But your Lanis didn't hire out his beauty like that:
reacting strongly, he told him to portray
neither Hyacinth nor anyone else,
but Lanis, son of Rametichos, an Alexandrian.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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E.p.r.
I am sacrificing to facilitate a process to win your love,
But i am sorry if i have offended you on this muse;
For i am the cat out of the bag!
day by day nad night by night,
And of the spontaneous act of your love to satisfy my muse;
For i want to have your baby.
Dial 'E' for my emotions,
Dial 'P' for my passions,
And dial 'R' for my romance;
For i am the mystery in your thick forest of love,
And i will undress you and deliver you with my sweet love.
The moon will light up the darkness on this love,
And with an accommodative warmth to lead us on;
For i want to have your baby.
Every man's work is a portrait of himself,
And every woman's work is a portrait of herself;
But i want to have your baby.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Portrait of a heart
Portrait of a heart
~
A portrait piece by piece
built through the heart
presents a romantic world
memories tell a moving tale
the full beauty of a loving heart
where the artist knows no end
and feels the strain of pride
still the picture takes its shape
to present a landscape of a life
touched by the words of love
scarred by the losses felt
the heart speaks and draws
from the uncharted depths
there in the eye of its picture
a romance reveals
a portrait of a world
built through the heart
poem by Matthew Holloway
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I do not paint a portrait to look like the subject, rather does the person grow to look like his portrait.
quote by Salvador Dali
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.
Oscar Wilde in The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The reason that I'm an actor, or an artist, is ultimately because I'm trying to paint a self-portrait, and the most complete and beautiful self-portrait that you can.
quote by Terrence Howard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When you start with a portrait and search for a pure form, a clear volume, through successive eliminations, you arrive inevitably at the egg. Likewise, starting with the egg and following the same process in reverse, one finishes with the portrait.
quote by Pablo Picasso
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The gallery of my heart
The gallery of my heart
~
Like a portrait hung
In the gallery of my heart
A girl of undoubted beauty
Breathtaking and full of wonder
Holds my gaze completely
I find my words flowing
In a river of adoration
I dedicate her my soul
There is a girl of beauty
Beyond which none compare
Painted to a memory
In the gallery of my heart
The softness of her eyes
A warmth to her lips
Fair skin and cascading hair
What love may imagine
When looking upon
A girl in portrait hung
In the gallery of my heart
poem by Matthew Holloway
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At the unveiling at the White House of the presidential portrait, President Bush pointed out that Hillary Clinton was the first sitting Senator in history to have her portrait hanging in the White House.
quote by Eleanor Clift
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Portrait of Aspiring Perfection
A portrait of aspiring perfection hath been painted
Through the creation of evolutions tidings.
A portrait of respiring reflections lay untainted.
Leaving my thought in meditation hiding.
They cry, the muses of my soul how they cry,
Forever sighing as I am forever wishing to be whole
And in so doing I am assuming myself to be but half.
poem by David Lacey
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And Once You Will Learn..
As I mix a hundred colours to paint your picture,
My canvas shrinks in size
And cries it foul.
There you stand with a smile mysterious.
As I hold a brush with a thousand quills on it,
My right hand shivers
And calls it uncommon.
Someone stands by you a with a frown.
You think I wouldn’t draw your picture at all.
You feel it’s my indifference
And colossal lack of concern.
Your mind turns into an ocean of skepticism.
Still on my large frame of mind
Your portrait hangs for ever
And there I see your smiling face.
My love has ever been thus…
Once when you begin to learn things,
My canvas and right hand will wither away.
Then your portrait drawn in a thousand colours
Will be your last concern perhaps.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Round & Round
I just can't help thinking
What you've done to me
You built a wall of love and tore it right down
In front of me
And you think you know what's going on
You keep telling me that i am wrong
I don't care about what you do
'cause if you mess with me i'll get rid of you
The picture you see is no portrait of me
It's too real to be shown to someone i don't know
And it's driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
You think i am crazy, but what can i do
You waste your time, like my money
It ain't so funny, but it's true
(don't waste my money, baby)
Now you can't tell me what's going on
And that i am weak while you are strong
What is it you need, that makes your heart bleed
Do you really know? 'cause it doesn't show
The picture you see is no portrait of me
It's too real to be shown to someone i don't know
And it's driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
The picture you see is no portrait of me
It's too real to be shown to someone i don't know
And it's driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her Portrait
Im painting another portrait. Look at her just look at her. Shes what you made. How do you justify it. Well let me be her angel of darkness. Let me take away all her pain and absorb it into me. I'm a sinner and saint. Im the equilibrium that holds every thing together. I watched many suffer. That when they are the strongest they are ever gonna be. I'm painting another portrait. Look at her just look at her. Shes everything you are not. Are you feeling jealous of what shes got. The ability to heal. The ability shield those under her. Let me be her angel of darkness. Let me take away all her pain and absorb it into me. Let me make her sane. Children are lost as love fades. Revenge leaves so many scars. Families torn apart for justification. Just make it okay. Just make it okay and make it go away. I'm painting another portrait. Just look at her. Just look at her. Such pretty eyes in which evil hides. Pictures of slaughter. It was her three year old daughter. Let me be her angel of darkness.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Painting From Memory
what could be more noble
than a son to paint a canvas
a portrait painted with years
of love heartfelt appreciation
a portrait of a beloved mother
lines of deep love appreciation
beauty bestowed upon mother
her face eternally young loving
you were extremely blessed
to have the love and discipline
of a wonderful caring mother
a mother among all mothers
radiant smile smiling as you smile
holding comforting ever loving
good fortune is having such a mother
a great blessing wonderful wise
a love like this is comfort blessing
during all the lived days of our life
poem by Terence George Craddock
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To the Portrait of
Well, Miss, I wonder where you live,
I wonder what’s your name,
I wonder how you came to be
In such a stylish frame;
Perhaps you were a favorite child,
Perhaps an only one;
Perhaps your friends were not aware
You had your portrait done.
Yet you must be a harmless soul;
I cannot think that Sin
Would care to throw his loaded dice,
With such a stake to win;
I cannot think you would provoke
The poet’s wicked pen,
Or make young women bite their lips,
Or ruin fine young men.
Pray, did you ever hear, my love,
Of boys that go about,
Who, for a very trifling sum,
Will snip one’s picture out?
I’m not averse to red and white,
But all things have their place,
I think a profile cut in black
Would suit your style of face!
I love sweet features; I will own
That I should like myself
To see my portrait on a wall,
Or bust upon a shelf;
But nature sometimes makes one up
Of such sad odds and ends,
It really might be quite as well
Hushed up among one’s friends!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Round Round
I just cant help thinking
What youve done to me
You built a wall of love and tore it right down
In front of me
And you think you know whats going on
You keep telling me that I am wrong
I dont care about what you do
cause if you mess with me Ill get rid of you
The picture you see is no portrait of me
Its too real to be shown to someone I dont know
And its driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
You think I am crazy, but what can I do
You waste your time, like my money
It aint so funny, but its true
(dont waste my money, baby)
Now you cant tell me whats going on
And that I am weak while you are strong
What is it you need, that makes your heart bleed
Do you really know? cause it doesnt show
The picture you see is no portrait of me
Its too real to be shown to someone I dont know
And its driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
The picture you see is no portrait of me
Its too real to be shown to someone I dont know
And its driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A reflective portrait
A reflective portrait
~
I’m a real piece of work
A Machiavellian self portrait
I could be the living abstract
Of my over complicated mind
While others try to work me out
Finding who or what I am
Beggars belief why they even try
I look away blindly into nothing
Trying to conjure some imagery
That I may weave in words
A poem of some or any worth
That’s what I do in my line of work
I crave emotions, explore them
I find sensations to abuse
I hurt myself to keep on living
I make little sense to anyone
Pride is complicated to understand
And comes at a high rate of interest
Interest I have little to share
Looking at my reflection, honestly
I’m a real piece of work
And yeah, I’m still me
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Leonardo
The one on portrait hanging on the wall
Perhaps the best that history can recall
He lived and worked five hundred years ago
And still the legend of Leonardo grow.
A Poet, a Scientist and an Engineer
An Inventor and an Artist without peer
From near poverty to fame at a time
When to be poor was looked on as a crime.
Leonardo the greatest son of Italy
Opened the gate to modern technology
No stranger to the book of history
In five hundred years no greater one than he.
Five centuries back he said that man would fly
And the legend live his fame will never die
His dusty portrait in old frame hang on wall
Perhaps the best that history can recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Tsholofelo, My Hope (A tribute to the Asian & African women I have lived with)
How shall I paint your portrait?
In purple, in black, in green...
Passionate and romantic...
Dancing a woman's tango.
Tsholofelo, I see you
primed in blue maid's uniform
serving hot coffee or tea
in locked executive rooms.
in construction work: digging;
chipping boulder's; sweating black;
climbing, laying hollow blocks;
looking sturdy; undaunted.
How shall I paint your bright hope?
In your womb, a child so dear;
Trapped in a world so unfair
Where diamonds are not rare.
How shall I paint your portrait?
Purple with your bleeding heart;
Black with your skin so unspoiled;
Green with your unfailing hope.
poem by Remedios Nalundasan-Abijan
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