En.Citatepedia^®.ro

I've Brought To Art

I sit in a mood of reverie.
I've brought to Art desires and sensations:
things half-glimpsed,
faces or lines, certain indistinct memories
of unfulfilled love affairs.
Let me submit to Art:

Art knows how to shape forms of Beauty,
almost imperceptibly completing life,
blending impressions, blending day with day.

poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Dimensions Blending

Dimensions blending.
With a mind bending intending,
New beginnings.

Dimensions blending.
With a mind bending intending,
New beginnings.

And witnessed are dimensions blending in!

Dimensions blending.
With an ending of those limits,
Once defended.
Now seen suspended.
Limits departing.
Limits departing...
As dimensions once unmentioned,
Drop those chins!

And witnessed are dimensions blending in!
Limits departing.
Limits departing...
As dimensions once unmentioned,
Drop those chins!

Dimensions blending.
With a mind bending intending,
New beginnings.

And witnessed are dimensions blending in!
Limits departing.
And,
Witnessed are dimensions blending in!
Limits departing.
And,
Witnessed are dimensions blending in!

Dimensions blending.
And,
Witnessed are dimensions blending in!

Dimensions blending!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Response

Beside that milestone where the level sun,
Nigh unto setting, sheds his last, low rays
On word and work irrevocably done,
Life's blending threads of good and ill outspun,
I hear, O friends! your words of cheer and praise,
Half doubtful if myself or otherwise.
Like him who, in the old Arabian joke,
A beggar slept and crowned Caliph woke.
Thanks not the less. With not unglad surprise
I see my life-work through your partial eyes;
Assured, in giving to my home-taught songs
A higher value than of right belongs,
You do but read between the written lines
The finer grace of unfulfilled designs.

poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Just a heartache

It's just a heartache
Just a heart break
My world is ending
My life is blending
It's just a heartache
Just a heart break

It's just a heartache
Just a heart break
I know he was not the one
He was only in for the sun
I couldn't control my heart
It was too smart
Love is an art
It's just a heartache
Just a heart break

It's just a heartache
Just a heart break
Your ego was growing
My love was flowing
Your love never started
My love was charted
Your smile shined
But your eyes were lined
It's just a heartache
Just a heart break

It's just a heartache
Just a heart break
Now I know love is sacred
And that you can't usually break it
I learned that there is love
It floats in like a dove
It's just a heartache
Just a heartbreak

It's just a heartache
Just a heartbreak
My head is ringing
My love is singing
I told my heart quit
And for it to sit
It's just a heartache
Just a heartbreak

It's just a heartache
Just a heartbreak
My world may be ending
My life may be blending
Bu he wasn't the one
he only wanted sun
So i have to let is go
I have to let my pain flow
It's just a heartache
Just a heartbreak

It's just a heartache
Just a heart break
My world is ending
My life is blending
It's just a heartache
Just a heart break

poem by Lillie Ellis
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Beauty, Beautious, Beautiful

Beauty is not a superficial form
Each has their own in essential nature
And in the actions they perform
Until the dissolution of their life
To leave beauty’s impressions in our hearts
Yesterdays beauty never leaves or departs.

Beauty is all around
Each and every place it may be found
As you look with open eyes
Upon the forms that nature makes
Then man seeks to imitate
Yearning to match that beauty all around.

Beauty if you cannot find
Beauty must be in mind
Beauty is in purity
Beauty of simplicity
Beauty runs right through and through
Beauty in me, and them, and you.

Beauty, beauteous, beautiful
Beauty in heaven
Beauty in fire
Beauty in earth
And finally beauty in a simple verse.

poem by David Taylor
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By painting colors and lines and forms seen in quickened mood I was seeking to make this mood vibrate as a phonograph does. This was the origin of the paintings in The Frieze of Life.

quote by Edvard Munch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is The Mood Of A Poem For This Night

THERE IS THE MOOD OF A POEM FOR THIS NIGHT

There is the mood of a poem for this night
There is the mood of a love from long ago
That is forever lost-

There is a mood of a too rainy and too cold night
There is a mood of more inside than saying can mean-

There is a mood of many things-

And all these moods are not one mood
And yet in me now largely indescribable-

For there is a mood which takes the person away
Into a land of dreams and beyond
And another mood and another poem
Which simply stays where it is
In longing for itself-

So while I have many moods
And may write many poems of those moods
I know that there is no mood tonight
Which is the one and only one love
I would always have-

And no mood which can say again
All that a person may have when young
And never know again in old age-

There is a mood of being forever sad and forever regretful-

But considering how much Beauty life has
And how many different ways there are of finding it
I will listen to the music of the light tonight
And hear the poetry of many great souls
And in a mood of joy
Quietly go to rest
As if happiness really were the mood beyond and within everything.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Life’s Philosophy

Life questions me after a second of discussion,
The first life to bring mystery is my own,
Yet when do lands phrase a sentence so bold?
The beauty of geography entails more,
The more of beauty you see, the more truth cuts
The cake so laid by the caretaker of this world.
Truth is a compass we observe so there is no loss,
And this means we are not lost, forever in the sky.
Adventures bring me solutions to my lovely problem,
For I have some love in my heart for any of the hearts.
You must commit blending and biting to deserve
Happiness.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Shape Of Things To Come

Magic, logic
The system works, but not for me
Look beyond the nearest moment
And youll see
The shape of things to come
Somewhere deep in the city
I can feel you I know youre here
Baby, Im just a pussy-cat
But not a one that you should fear
One, two, always love you
One, two, move up above you
Two, two, right in the face
Yes sir, no sir, three bags full so
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
Let me get you outta here
Tragic, logic
The system hurts, but not for me
I look beyond the farest moment
And I say
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
Somewhere deep in the system
I can see you but youre not clear
A simple case of error correction
Come on baby, get your ass in gear
One, two, always love you
One, two, move up above you
Two, two, right in the face
Of sir, no sir, three bags full so
The shape of things to come
Let me get your outta here
The shape of things to come
Look into my eyes and Ill make your day
The shape of things to come
Good things, great things, all just same things
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come

song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Recipe for a Poem

Weigh a few words of two or more
Add breaking lines to tease
Stir in a message or metaphor
Plus a rhythm that rhymes with ease
Bake with mental expressions galore
Then serve with a blending to please.

poem by John Silkstone
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The Final Journey (Death Poem)

I was very
Close to death today,
On the road to Cochabamba.
The “too many” sad lines of crosses,
None of them planned to die.
How can you know?
How will I know?
When?
I live each day
As if it is my last,
So that,
When
I come
to the end
of the road,
Unfulfilled desires,
Will not torment me
In the next life, if there is one.

poem by Ian Beckett
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Sketch Book

If I may,
allow thee,
stand
lay
find
your
pose.

Will sketch thee in thy book.

Charcoal
grainy
dark
smudges blending,
image
take
form.

Disrobe
do not,
remove thy cloth
woven
cotton
cover
disguise
thy body shape
curves
contours
angles.

Distraction.

Already have sketch in hand,
conjured forth,
time
and
time
again.

Thy body shape,
lies beneath,
across they clothing drape?

Still life.

Artists interpretation.

Thy beauty.

Recline,
arm at side
other over head
finger poised
chin angled toward thee
eyes at slight glance,
legs
lounging
relaxed
ankles crossed.

Nude.

Exposed.

Yes,
of course.

Anywhere you would like,
when
your
ready.

Will sketch thee in thy book.

poem by Gary Kedron
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Vivaldi, concerto for flute

Children playing on a green playground
Mothers watching
Closely watching
The faces of children
Smiling

Cool air
Green leaves brown leaves yellow leaves
Soft wind
Leaves falling down to the slow soft wind

Children running
Chasing each other
They are playing

A mother feels the soft wind
Cool air
And sees the trickles of leaves
Blending green brown yellow

With sunshine as canvass
Nature and human figures of mothers and children
Blending
Amazing
What a beautiful painting has God
In quick short brushes
Effortlessly with perfect strokes did make

The frame is laughter of children.

I am taking the whole picture for home.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Beauty of Love!

I enjoy beauty of star studded night sky;
I enjoy beauty of harmonious waves of sea;
I enjoy beauty of peaceful living of people;
I enjoy beauty of natural poems of poets!

Beauty of human life I enjoy in all forms;
Beauty of fun loving children I enjoy often;
Beauty of smiling flowers I enjoy in garden;
Beauty of art work I enjoy in all forms ever!

World is full of beauty Nature bestows to all;
World is paradise due to love and beauty ever;
World is the abode of man's cultural refinement;
World is the spring board to heaven at the end!

Beauty of love is eternal for all to enjoy in life
Evolving animal into man and man into divine!

poem by Ramesh T A
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Lost In Meditation

(ooh intro)
I am lost in meditation
And my reverie
Brings you back to me
For, in my imagination
Love has lingered on
As though youd never gone
This is just a dream that can not last
When the magic of this mood has passed
So, I sit in meditation
Trying to pretend, this mood will never end
Lost in meditation
And my reverie
Brings you back to me

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Neither is there figurative and non-figurative art. All things appear to us in the shape of forms. Even in metaphysics ideas are expressed by forms, well then think how absurd it would be to think of painting without the imagery of forms. A figure, an object, a circle, are forms; they affect us more or less intensely.

quote by Pablo Picasso
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Poetics

I look for the way
things will turn
out spiralling from a center,
the shape
things will take to come forth in

so that the birch tree white
touched black at branches
will stand out
wind-glittering
totally its apparent self:

I look for the forms
things want to come as

from what black wells of possibility,
how a thing will
unfold:

not the shape on paper -- though
that, too -- but the
uninterfering means on paper:

not so much looking for the shape
as being available
to any shape that may be
summoning itself
through me
from the self not mine but ours.

poem by Archie Randolph Ammons
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Ambience: Sky

As it may occupy the space
Merging everything into itself
Blending itself into everything
Incurring vastness around
Essence of its nature is to embrace
Naturally beautifying with its presence
Clearly showing grace
Emerges then beauty; azure

poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE
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The Courtship of the Future

HE.
“What is a kiss?”—Why, long ago,
When pairs, as we, a-wooing sat,
They used to put their four lips. . . . so, . . .
And make a chirping noise. . . . like that.
And, strange to say, the fools were pleased;
A little went a long way then:
A cheek lip-grazed, a finger squeezed,
Was rapture to those ancient men.

Ah, not for us the timid course
Of those old-fashioned bill-and-cooers!
One unit of our psychic force
Had squelched a thousand antique wooers.
For us the god his chalice dips
In fountains fiercer, deeper, dearer,
Than purling confluence of lips
That meet, but bring the Souls no nearer.

Well; 'twas but poverty at worst:
Poor beggars, how could they be choosers!
Not yet upon the world had burst
Our Patent Mutual Blood-Transfusers.
Not yet had Science caught the clue
To joy self-doubling, -squaring, -cubing,—
Nor taught to draw the whole soul through
A foot of gutta-percha tubing.

Come, Lulu, bare the pearly arm;—
Now, where the subtle blue shows keenest,
I hang the duplex, snake-like charm,
(The latest, by a new machinist).
And see, in turn above my wrist
I fix the blood-compelling conduits . . .
Ah, this is what the old world missed,
For all the lore of all its pundits!

I turn the tap—I touch the spring—
Hush, Lulu, hush! our lives are blending.
(This new escapement's quite the thing,

And very well worth recommending.)
Oh circuit of commingling bliss!
Oh bliss of mingling circulation!
True love alone can merge like this
In one continuous pulsation.

Your swift life thrills me through and through:
I wouldn't call the Queen my mother:
Now you are I, and I am you,
And each of us is one another.
Reciprocally influent
The wedded love-tide flows between us:—
Ah, this is what the old fables meant,
For surely, love, our love is venous.

Now, now, your inmost life I know,
How nobler far than mine and grander;
For through my breast your feelings flow,
And through my brain your thoughts meander.
I feel a rush of high desires
With sweet domestic uses blending,
As now I think of angel-choirs,
And now of stockings heaped for mending.

And see—myself! in light enshrined!
An aureole my hat replacing!
Now, amorous yearnings half-defined,
With prudish scruples interlacing.
Next, cloudlike floats a snowy veil,
And—heavens above us!—what a trousseau!..
Come, Lulu, give me tale for tale;
I'll keep transfusing till you do so.

SHE.
Oh, love, this never can be you!
The stream flows turbid, melancholic;
And heavy vapours dull me through,
Dashed with a something alcoholic.
The elective-forces shrink apart,
No answering raptures thrill and quicken;
Strange feelings curdle at my heart,
And in my veins vile memories thicken.

I feel an alien life in mine!
It isn't I! It isn't you, Sir!
This is the mood of Caroline!
Oh, don't tell me! I know the brew, Sir!

Nay, nay,—it isn't “the machine”!
This isn't you—this isn't I, Sir!
It's the old story—you have been
Transfusing elsewhere on the sly, Sir.

poem by James Brunton Stephens
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My Reverie

Our love
Is a dream, but in my reverie
I can see that this love was meant for me
Only a poor fool
Never schooled in the whirlpool
Of romance could be so cruel
As you are to me
My dreams are as worthless as tin to me
Without you life will never begin to be
So love me
As I love you in my reverie
Make my dream a reality
Lets dispense with formality
Come to me in my reverie

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fleeting Moments

Blending bitter and sweet memories,
The fleeting moments pass quickly,
Fall into the measureless depth of past.
Inspire or despond when are recalled,
Flow too rapid like hissing water,
Of the silent brimming river,
That mixes opaque into clear blue,
To be poured into the gapped ocean,
With spacious belly never to be filled.

The moments in hands are precious,
And if coated with good deeds,
Make the past sweet, worth recalling,
But heinous deeds make them sooty sable,
Imprinting dark indelible stamps,
Only the bright eyes can read well,
The impressions on the countenance,
And ascetic or diabolical signs,
When one is old and close to death.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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