Immortal Grace {The Da Vinci Ode}
In the portrait you see
years of legacy,
an artisans treasure
of full bountied measure.
Each dove feathered stroke
flecks a virtuous scope
of immortal grace -
on this eloquent face.
And her aura surrounds
the breadth that abounds
from the eyes that explore
as they follow yours.
Should you study her pose
you may fall self-engrossed
in her soft, subtle smile,
a hint of beguile-
'cross her lips quivered ripple,
meticulous stipple.
And with haunting expression
such stoic impression
admired and praised
As Eiffel and Pisa,
this portrait of grace -
Da Vinci's ''Lisa''.
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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The Best Smile
It was a portrait
Of six feet height
Full size Lady Grace,
Minus lips on her face.
With all his skill
The artist failed still,
To give her a smile,
Free from any style.
He scanned every mile,
For that unseen smile,
One lovely to admire,
Forever, the world over.
Smiles, smiles every where,
But not a smile there,
New, true and plain,
His lady should own.
His wife smiled.
His girl smiled.
His servant smiled.
His boss smiled.
The milkmaid smiled.
The cartman smiled.
The beggar smiled.
The neighbour smiled.
The dandy smiled.
The waiter smiled.
The grocer smiled.
The councilor smiled.
He saw an ambitious smile,
Not an aesthetic smile,
And a cunning smile,
Not a winning smile.
He saw a dubious smile,
Not a divine smile,
And a greedy smile,
Not a graceful smile.
He saw a mischievous smile,
Not a magnanimous smile,
And a voluptuous smile,
Not a virtuous smile.
Smiles, with strings, he found,
Wherever he went round,
But not the best one,
The Lady Grace won.
The smile, the best,
He found at last,
From his own child,
Rocking in the cradle.
Now the Lady Grace smiled.
Thanks to the child.
The portrait was acclaimed,
The best of its kind.
(Longest word in English is 'Smiles'
Because there is a mile between 'S' and 'S')
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
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Valentine 2009
If I could paint a masterpiece
In portrait show my lady’s grace
As da Vinci in his finest hour
Attained in Mona Lisa’s face
If I could write a sonnet grand
In poem show my lady’s soul
That to the eyes of all who read
Rapturous tears would freely flow
If I could achieve these shining feats
Though great, sufficient would not be
To reveal the love that’s in my heart
Or impart my lady’s worth to me
I love you Babe
© C R Clark 2/09/2009
poem by C.R. Clark
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A Portrait Of Tomorrow
get the pen of the present
and take the colors of the past
use the hand that you trust
and begin making
tomorrow's portrait
have the ears of twenty years ago
try listening
if the sound is happy
put them there
and for the nose
smell the sweat of your childhood
those that play so well on the grass
and took the plunge on the clean rivers of your life
if you have that nostalgic feeling
then put that nose there
and how about the mouth and the lips
i think, if i were you
i'll take the teen age years
remembering the first kiss
and the first communion
the sound of a tight embrace
and if you like those happenings
then have those years
as your mouth and lips
and even the teeth
and now for the eyes
those that know really how to see
clearly and probingly
ponderous eyes
where wisdom is embedded
i think if i were you
take it from the present
those that see the past
as a summary
and of course the future
as a plan
specific and determined
strong and willing
and with a stroke of your
skilled hand you put the final
touches of tomorrow's portrait
you see your face and you say
you are beautiful
you caress it and tell yourself
you are lovable
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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The Moon is a Painter
He coveted her portrait.
He toiled as she grew gay.
She loved to see him labor
In that devoted way.
And in the end it pleased her,
But bowed him more with care.
Her rose-smile showed so plainly,
Her soul-smile was not there.
That night he groped without a lamp
To find a cloak, a book,
And on the vexing portrait
By moonrise chanced to look.
The color-scheme was out of key,
The maiden rose-smile faint,
But through the blessed darkness
She gleamed, his friendly saint.
The comrade, white, immortal,
His bride, and more than bride—
The citizen, the sage of mind,
For whom he lived and died.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Memo to the heart
Memo to the heart
~
Be still my beating heart
her name is the sweet wine
you are drunk upon
her face the portrait
which leaves you breathless
and the dream of her
the likes of which
you never awaken from
be still, be quiet my heart
and take her hand gently
keep it safe in your own
lay a kiss upon her lips
with the softest grace
hold your tongue
allow the silence to speak
that eyes answer all
with a look which says
I love you
poem by Matthew Holloway
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To Zama: An Elegy
You walk in beauty,
And beauty in you abounds
You're the best of both, dark and bright
Mellowed like tender light.
A concoction-a shade of flaws,
With one more ray of perfection
You're more than an illusion,
Sweeter than a dream.
So soft, so tranquil, yet eloquent
A smile so bright and eyes that glow
A mind at peace with all bellow.
And as I dip my soul in quiet thought,
I dwell in the pleasures that you have brought.
Forever these lips will tell of days in goodness spent:
Of a heart whose love was pure—
Your unforgettable scent,
Eternally haunting my soul,
A pleasure for I, to have known thee.
poem by Sthembiso jean culio Cele
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The Portrait
The portrait there above my bed
They tell me is a work of art;
My Wife,--since twenty years she's dead:
Her going nearly broke my heart.
Alas! No little ones we had
To light our hearth with joy and glee;
Yet as I linger lone and sad
I know she's waiting me.
The picture? Sargent painted it,
And it has starred in many a show.
Her eyes are on me where I sit,
And follow me where'er I go.
She'll smile like that when I am gone,
And I am frail and oh so ill!
Aye, when I'm waxen, cold and wan,
Lo! She'll be smiling still.
So I have bade them slash in strips
That relic of my paradise.
Let flame destroy those lovely lips
And char the starlight of her eyes!
No human gaze shall ever see
Her beauty,--stranger heart to stir:
Nay, her last smile shall be for me,
My last look be for her.
poem by Robert William Service
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Art Encompassed
Michelangelo carved poetry
into purest marble
painted it across ceiling
of adorned Sistine Chapel.
Leonardo Da Vinci
cunningly imprisoned it
within magnetic eyes
of portrait Mona Lisa.
Vincent Van Gogh ground pigment
mixed fresco artistic paint
then splashed poetry upon heaven’s
eternal Starry Starry Night.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Will Survive
This is a rare song from the 'Gladiator' soundtrack... the boxing movie, not the Russell Crowe movie.
------
The battle line is drawn
I dare you to cross it
You better think twice
before you mix it up with me
I won't back down
I'll keep the fire burning
As hard as you try
you're never gonna stop me now, no
You think you're shaking my innocence
but you're wasting time
Cause you don't know who I am.
I will survive
I'm driven by the faith
You can see it in my eyes
It's written on my face
I will survive
And I won't let it
fall from grace
All around the world
There are true believers
I know I'm not alone
There's someone watching over me
Ow! Stand my ground
While the world keeps turning
If I believe enough
I'm never gonna fade away, hey
You think you're shaking my innocence
but you're wasting time
Cause you don't know who I am.
I will survive
I'm driven by the faith
You can see it in my eyes
It's written on my face
I will survive
No I won't let it
I won't let it fall from grace
(Fall from grace...)
There's someone watching over me.
(Fall from grace...)
Nothing's gonna stop me now
Gonna stand my ground
I will survive
You can see it in my eyes...
I will survive
I've driven by the faith
You can see it in my eyes
It's written on my face
I will survive
I will survive
I won't let it fall from grace
I will survive
You can see it in my eyes
I will survive
Yeah...
I will survive
I will survive
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have learnt to love beyond the beauty...
I have learnt to love beyond the beauty...
Face to face...
My eyes wonder...
Art shone in magnificence of range...
Merry face, fair and bright...
Solemn, serene, earnest eyes...
Long and crafted nose leaning down like a tower on the face
Yet some with charm and royal grace...
Ponder I faces that change...
Could restless heart connect to those beauties, to those charms?
Captivating to eyes so, leaves a fade impression on my heart...
My senses and sensibilities shall fall to praise to thy craft fine...
Finished with perfection…
Your brush that sways on the divinity of souls
Brushed off some divine dust at your last stroke...
poem by Lama Abbas
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Partings Sorrow
Parting is a sorrow
Of which I pray we never know
For your company, your grace
Is one I wish to know forever
I’d enjoy your laughter
Filling the halls of my memories
And your smile a portrait
In the gallery of my life
No, I would not wish we part
To lose this love, forget it
I want for years to pass
And that we remain oblivious
Of partings sorrow
That which I pray we never know
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Watching Her Sleep
1-The Furrowed Brow
Sleep lies upon her face
of yesterday's worries
there remains a trace
A furrowed brow
surely out of place
disturbs the beauty
of her sleeping face
2-A Nightmare?
Would that one small kiss
fall into sleep's abyss
to save a dream amiss
or of your fears dismiss
3-Coup De Maitre (A stroke of a master)
You may a portrait be
God stroked His brush on thee
thy brow a subtlety
His art is Love to me
4-The Smile
From shadowed sleep,
a soft light leaps
5-Her baby
Thy loving heart n'er sleeps
A Mothers worry, forever keeps
6-Sunrise in Her Face
A mornings sun does place
about thy sleeping face
a wreath of flowers bright
to bid the moon goodnight
poem by George Vuyakovich
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Lips and Eyes.
IN Celia's face a question did arise,
Which were more beautiful, her lips or eyes ?
“ We,” said the eyes, “send forth those pointed darts
Which pierce the hardest adamantine hearts.”
“ From us,” repli'd the lips, “proceed those blisses
Which lovers reap by kind words and sweet kisses.”
Then wept the eyes, and from their springs did pour
Of liquid oriental pearl a shower ;
Whereat the lips, moved with delight and pleasure,
Through a sweet smile unlock'd their pearly treasure
And bad Love judge, whether did add more grace
Weeping or smiling pearls to Celia's face.
poem by Thomas Carew
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Toward Sky
my eyes always see
toward sky
always i have
in my mind
await for clouds
when black and thunder clouds
acquire entire sky
it is a vamp scene
when black coverlet
covered sun light
the same trend repeated
in my mind
when a dust storm
from desert of mind
blow with velocity
a puff rise from
my willing
and covers whole sky
of mind
my eyes starting on raining
a lukewarm water begin to fall
this water wash your obscure portrait
and i can see you properly
face to face
for some minutes
in this holy time
i exchange some dialect with you
through your portrait
when i want to meet with you
i rise my head toward sky
poem by Jatinder Singh Aulakh
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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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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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In Another's Eyes (feat. Trisha Yearwood)
In Another's Eyes
I'm someone who
Loves her enough
To walk away from you
I'd never cheat
And I would never lie
In another's eyes
In anothers' eyes
I could do no wrong
And he believes in me
And his faith is strong
I'd never fall
Or even compromise
In another's eyes
In another's eyes
I'm afraid that I can't see
This picture perfect portrait
That they paint of me
They don't realize
And I pray that they never do
'Cause everytime I look
I'm seein' you
In another's eyes
In another's eyes
Starin' back at me
Tryin' desperately
To turn the tide
Before it dies
In another's eyes
And what they don't see
Is killing me
It's a blessing and a curse
That love is blind
'Cause in another's eyes
I'm afraid that I can't see
This picture perfect portrait
That they paint of me
They don't realize
And I pray to god they never do
'Cause every time I look
I'm seein' you
In another's eyes
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
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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