Builder Has Finished Build Well
Builder has finished build well
Only the painter to paint good
Wish he paints bright and peace
Builder has finished build well
Who the builder? who the painter?
Light your search to find rather
Builder has finished build well
Only the painter to paint good
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Painter Man
Went to college, studied arts
To be an artist make a start
Studied hard, gettin my degree
But no one seemed to notice me
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Tried cartoons and comic books
Dirty postcards could have done
Here was where the money laid
Classic art has had its day
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Did adverts for t.v.
Household shops and brands of tea
Labels all around the cans
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
La...la...la...la...la...la...
La...la...la...la...la...la...la...
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No person who is not a great sculptor or painter can be an architect. If he is not a sculptor or painter, he can only be a builder.
quote by John Ruskin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Painted House Is Like A Poem.
In a way-A house painter is like a poet...
The house painter or average person just might not know it.
A lot of cleaning, sanding and preparation of the surface takes care and time...
Compositions, editing and thought polishes the rhyme.
When finished, they both are a work of art...
A lot of sweat and work is done by the artist's own part.
In the end, a finished polished piece...
Makes the artist, happy and at peace.
The work is finally done...
What hard work, finished-Now
feelings of enjoyed fun.
poem by Michael Gale
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Today... 'Architect and Builder
Ere time elapsed or creation began
You drew up Your wondrous salvation plan.
A mighty universe was to be made
through which Your glory would be displayed
Builder of all things both seen and unseen
of every earthly and heavenly scene.
Angelic hosts their great praises render
as creation appeared in all its splendour.
Its great Architect and Builder was God
and the streets of His creation He trod.
Climbing the steep path to Calvary's hill
His great Plan of Salvation to fulfil.
To build again the New Jerusalem
and fill its streets with children of Abraham
To build the Church each stone a living soul
each one born again and in Christ made whole
(see also the additional information below in the Poet's box)
The Painter (Ang Pintor)
The Painter...
He colored the sky
He colored the sea
and even the mountains
and the field.
The Painter...
He colored the roses
and even the birds
and animals
in the farm.
The Painter...
even my life...
He colored.
But the Painter,
I guess no one
have seen Him yet.
The Painter...
can anyone paint the colors
of His life?
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Another Pyramid
Sad to say our mighty ruler
Is not really in the pink
Hopes could not be minuscular
That he'll come back from the brink
Not to beat around the bush
He looks like heading for his box
At the risk of seeming pushy
We must plan for future shocks
According to the hawk of Horus
Our most regal invalid
Is not that much longer for us
Build another pyramid
Build it, build it
Another pyramid
build it, build it
Though all doctors and physicians
Have been summoned to his bed
It'll soon be top morticians
We'll be calling for instead
With each wheeze the nation's humming
Egypt shakes with every cough
No two ways about what's coming
No discussion, bets are off
Soon our monarch will have filled the tomb
Just like his fathers did
Summon Egypt's greatest builder
Need another pyramid
Build it, build it
Another pyramid
Build it, build it
We hate to depress the nation
But our leader has been told
He should scrub his next vacation
Even put tonight on hold
This is where his loyal priesthood
Has the chance to do him proud
Holy leaders at the least should
See him happy to his shroud
He must have a vault that's grand by
Any standards for to live
Put five thousand slaves on standby
Build another pyramid
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The American, by nature, is optimistic. He is experimental, an inventor and a builder who builds best when called upon to build greatly.
quote by John F. Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Builder's Son
'Is not this the builder's son? ! '
Said King Herod the Tetrarch;
But the jewels of the crown is all because of Herodias.
Of the prisoners of hope,
Let your light so shine in the wilderness of Yahweh!
For the builder's son is the teacher for us all.
Of Archelaus son of King Herod,
Like the message to the child and his mother;
But the name of wisdom is in the wilderness of love.
From Egypt i have callled my son like,
In the days of King Herod;
But the Wise Men from the East have more to teach us.
Of the builder's son,
Like the four generations of hope;
But the fall of Babylon is like the acts of Zerrubabel!
Life is like the Megiddo Valley,
But i am like the fire among the woods!
With my hope of sincere love to share with the prisoners.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Palace
1902
When I was a King and a Mason - a Master proven and skilled -
I cleared me ground for a Palace such as a King should build.
I decreed and dug down to my levels. Presently, under the silt,
I came on the wreck of a Palace such as a King had built.
There was no worth in the fashion - there was no wit in the plan -
Hither and thither, aimless, the ruined footings ran -
Masonry, brute, mishandled, but carven on every stone:
'After me cometh a Builder. Tell him, I too have known.'
Swift to my use in my trenches, where my well-planned ground-works grew,
I tumbled his quoins and his ashlars, and cut and reset them anew.
Lime I milled of his marbles; burned it, slacked it, and spread;
Taking and leaving at pleasure the gifts of the humble dead.
Yet I despised not nor gloried; yet, as we wrenched them apart,
I read in the razed foundations the heart of that builder's heart.
As he had risen and pleaded, so did I understand
The form of the dream he had followed in the face of the thing he had planned.
* * * * *
When I was a King and a Mason - in the open noon of my pride,
They sent me a Word from the Darkness. They whispered and called me aside.
They said - 'The end is forbidden.' They said - 'Thy use is fulfilled.
'Thy Palace shall stand as that other's - the spoil of a King who shall build.'
I called my men from my trenches, my quarries, my wharves, and my sheers.
All I had wrought I abandoned to the faith of the faithless years.
Only I cut on the timber - only I carved on the stone:
'After me cometh a Builder. Tell him, I too have known! '
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Castles in the air - they are so easy to take refuge in. And so easy to build, too.
Henrik Ibsen in The Master builder (1892)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Canvas (Part 2)
We last left off with such the fright,
She paints—but gasp! —that's not quite right,
For every story has a twist,
And every painting is done on her wrist.
She paints with—sorry? —with little regard,
To what may bleed and what may scar,
But oh, she paints a lovely spar,
Despite the way that most things are.
Some find it funny and watch as she flees,
Others feel sick the moment they see,
Because a painter, she can't have much of a life,
If all of her painting is done with a knife.
This painter—in fact—she thinks she's alone,
Because of the burden of problems at home,
And then there's her mind, a nasty old place,
It's mostly the cause of the paintings she makes.
But one can be trapped, or one can be freed,
Though most painters like her find this hard to believe,
Yet this very painter broke free of her sadness,
And if she ever wonders 'why? ' she can look at her canvas.
poem by Dayna Mortimore
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Myself was formed—a Carpenter
488
Myself was formed—a Carpenter—
An unpretending time
My Plane—and I, together wrought
Before a Builder came—
To measure our attainments—
Had we the Art of Boards
Sufficiently developed—He'd hire us
At Halves—
My Tools took Human—Faces—
The Bench, where we had toiled—
Against the Man—persuaded—
We—Temples build—I said—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The Pack-Saddle
A FAMOUS painter, jealous of his wife;
Whose charms he valued more than fame or life,
When going on a journey used his art,
To paint an ASS upon a certain part,
(Umbilical, 'tis said) and like a seal:
Impressive token, nothing thence to steal.
A BROTHER brush, enamoured of the dame;
Now took advantage, and declared his flame:
The Ass effaced, but God knows how 'twas done;
Another soon howe'er he had begun,
And finished well, upon the very spot;
In painting, few more praises ever got;
But want of recollection made him place
A saddle, where before he none could trace.
THE husband, when returned, desired to look
At what he drew, when leave he lately took.
Yes, see my dear, the wily wife replied,
The Ass is witness, faithful I abide.
Zounds! said the painter, when he got a sight,--
What!--you'd persuade me ev'ry thing is right?
I wish the witness you display so well,
And him who saddled it, were both in Hell.
poem by La Fontaine
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Painter Named William
WILLIAM THE PAINTER
With a great smile that always shines,
he is a great painter, he paints art real fine.
William makes paintings with acrylic, oils and pastels,
he is a realistic painter, muralist and cartoonist as well.
I went to William’s art event,
it was at a church is where I went.
He did a mural on their wall,
it was huge, it wasn’t small.
William has a great eye for shape and form,
he is an original artist, not in the norm.
Now I just saw William today,
he was happy to see me and we talked away.
I will do a mural with him in Lake Worth soon,
we will paint a wall with some cartoons.
Looking forward William to see more of your art,
your art is unique, it sets you apart.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Rob And Paul The Builders
It's been said you'll find a builder on almost every street
I know of two from Upwey Rob Leerveld and Paul Monteith
They often work together though sometimes on their own
And through the mountain suburbs as builders they are known.
Ask Denise Housiaux about them she says how great they are
That to find their very equals one would have to travel far
They built her house in Kallista she heaps upon them praise
A good job earns you more work and in the long run pays.
Rob Leerveld and Paul Monteith proud of the work they do
The job that is hard on one man is made easier by two
Throughout the mountain suburbs good reports of them abound
Of Rob and Paul the builders the word has gone around.
Rob Leerveld and Paul Monteith different as chalk and cheese
Yet in each others company they seem so much at ease
There must be truth in the saying that opposites agree
For they go well together and work in harmony.
The Dutchman and the Aussie quite different it would seem
But when they work together they make a mighty team
And it's true you'll find a builder on almost every street
But you won't find any better than Leerveld and Monteith.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I actually started as a model builder and quickly progressed into production design, which made sense because I could draw and paint. But I kept watching that guy over there who was moving the actors around and setting up the shots.
quote by James Cameron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Landscape
Painter, painter paint a scene-
A dainty cottage on a mound,
In a forest beautiful.
Paint it white and ashen grey,
With a meadow surrounding,
Filled with grass, all green and mowed.
Paint arcading cedars few,
With a narrow winding road,
And hedges on either side.
Paint a teenager with bike,
Ready for a hiking trip,
In the forest adjacent.
Make the day dawn early when
Air is fresh and birds fly past,
In the search of early worms!
When the light shall fade by eve,
Let the eyes that pry within,
Sense the ghosts of beasts and men!
And an eerie silence fall,
Broken by weird shrieking sounds,
Shadow-play of setting sun!
Turning forest pitch-black till,
Bats and owls come out to look
For their prey, in dark profound!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-19-2007
poem by John Celes
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The Teachers Are Afraid Of The Pupils
Theres too many people
Planning your downfall
When your spirits on trial
These nights can be frightening
Sleep transports sadness
To some other mid-brain
And somebody here
Will not be here next year
So you stand by the board
Full of fear and intention
And, if you think that theyre listening
Well, youve got to be joking
Oh, you understand change
And you think its essential
But when your profession
Is humiliation
Say the wrong word to our children ...
Well have you, oh yes, well have you
Lay a hand on our children
And its never too late to have you
Mucus on your collar
A nail up through the staff chair
A blade in your soap
And you cry into your pillow
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
Say the wrong word to our children ...
Well have you, oh yes, well have you
Lay a hand on our children
And its never too late to have you
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
Im very glad the spring has come
The sun shines out so bright
All the birds that are on the trees
Are singing for delight
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Painter Song
If I were a painter
I would paint my reverie
If that's the only way for you to be with me
We'd be there together
Just like we used to be
Undertneath the swirling skies for all to see
And I'm dreaming of a place
Where I could see your face
And I think my brush would tak eme there
But only...
If I were a painter
And could paint a memory
I'd climb inside the swirling skies to be with you
I'd climb inside the skies to be with you
song performed by by Norah Jones from Come Away With Me
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Castle-Builder. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Third)
A gentle boy, with soft and silken locks,
A dreamy boy, with brown and tender eyes,
A castle-builder, with his wooden blocks,
And towers that touch imaginary skies.
A fearless rider on his father's knee,
An eager listener unto stories told
At the Round Table of the nursery,
Of heroes and adventures manifold.
There will be other towers for thee to build;
There will be other steeds for thee to ride;
There will be other legends, and all filled
With greater marvels and more glorified.
Build on, and make thy castles high and fair,
Rising and reaching upward to the skies;
Listen to voices in the upper air,
Nor lose thy simple faith in mysteries.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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