Nude Model
I gaze upon her nakedness.
regard it with an artist’s eye.
A woman nature chose to bless
with beauty which would satisfy
Criteria which men devise
in their attempts to classify.
What is most pleasing to their eyes.
With flying colours easily.
I see her as a work of art
a subtle blend of lines and curves
and changing flesh tones which impart
A beauty which appeals to me
both as an artist and a man
I must portray as best I can.
30-Mar-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Wonders Of Nature
The wonders of Nature around us every day
The billions of multicoloured wildflowers that bloom in their own natural way
The hum of the nectar gathering honey bees
And the scent of pollen blown out from the blossoming trees.
The pleasant sounds of Nature to us ever near
The songs of the wild birds so pleasing for to hear
And as much as the trees and the flowers and as much as bird song
We are part of Nature and to her we belong.
The beauty of Nature is for all to see
It is all around you and it is all around me
The beauty of our Earth Mother is for all to admire
And of singing her praises could one ever tire.
The poets are inspired by her and in their poems they sing
Of her Seasons the Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring
And in the work of the artist on the gallery wall
The beauty captured on canvas of a waterfall.
The wonders of Nature are around us everywhere
White butterflies dancing in the balmy air
And in Nature everything lives in a natural way
And for to view her beauty we do not have to pay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Nude Artist
A Nude Artist
he says he is a nude artist
because he is naked when he paints
such nakedness has
nothing to do with being a nude artist
a naked artist who paints a cat or a chicken
is not a nude artist
there is no nude cat
thyere is no nude chicken
just paint a naked woman
and he will be called a nude artist
an artist is not an art
he must know that
- Frog Mantra, Accents Publishing,2012 -
poem by Suchoon Mo_
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The Artist
He stands at no easel, he mixes no paint,
He colours no canvas to gladden the eye,
Yet the picture he makes will not fade or grow faint
Till our love of the chase shall desert us and die.
He's an artist of parts
Who appeals to the hearts
That can thrill to good hunting and hounds in full cry.
By his seat in the saddle, his touch on the reins,
His skill and his mastery, who can gainsay
That here is an artist in all that pertains
To the horse and his handling - a real R.A. ?
An artist 'twould irk
Not to cut out the work
When the hats are crammed down and a fox is away.
You will find him no centre of salon or crush,
No letters attached to his name may he sign,
But there's no one so eager to handle the Brush
And there's none so consistently found on the Line.
If an artist you ask,
Here's the man for the task,
Making pictures where keenness and courage combine.
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
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I Wish I Could Sing Of The Beauty I See
I wish I could sing of the beauty I see
The beauty of Nature that's all around me
In the warmth of November of the Southern Spring
The blackbird and magpie and shrike thrush do sing.
Of singing Nature's praises the poets never tire
And her beauty the Nature artist does inspire
To paint and frame a beautiful picture to hang on a gallery wall
When it comes to beauty Nature the most beautiful of all.
The buzzing of flying insects the flies and the bees
The soughing of the wind in the bushes and trees
The babble of the river and birdsong I hear
The voices of Nature are everywhere near.
The roar of the ocean when the tide is in
As the huge waves crash on the beach they do make a loud din
The howling of the storm, thunder cracks in the sky
When Nature feels angry to scream she's not shy.
Yet the beauty of Nature is lovely to behold
What is more beautiful than the parrots in their blue, red, green and gold
And the flowers of the parkland that bloom naturally
I wish I could write of the beauty I see.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The First Artist and Author.
The first artist painted the sky with colors, such beauty,
Look at those sunsets, and the mountains, such reality;
The mountains, have shadows, of splendor that only the Master can do,
Yes! It's God who was the first Artist, and He also taught me too.
The first great artist painted the colors on the sea,
Blues, greens, aquas, Only one could do this you see;
And when there is a storm near, the sea goes so dark blue,
Yes! God is the first great artist, to paint it for me and you.
The first great Artist, loved to teach David to write poetry,
And also king Solomon, writing words of such beauty;
Oh such magnificent works, of color and in each word,
Yes! There is only one who could do this it is the Lord.
Then. We see in every rainbow, and in each shell as well,
Look at the colored sands, and in every bird, it does tell;
Then look at each animal, and also the petals of each flower too
Then as you look at these, , give Thanks for doing it for me and you.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Meditation. for Sonny Rainshine
The shifting blues of soft twilight, precursor to the fall of night.
From palest blue to indigo the colours waver come and go
.No earthly artist though they try can possibly identify
the boundaries between the hues which swirl and blend just as they choose.
Before they’re overtaken by darkness of night that rules the sky
Until the Moons serenity appears on high for all to see.
Here in the quiet countryside I meditate each eventide
Upon the qualities of light which alter with the fall of night.
Though it grows dark I still can see my eyes can work efficiently adjusting to the changing light though colours fade to black and white. An interlude a passing phase which flees before the silver rays
the newly risen moon supplies. Colours return delight our eyes
Though there’s a subtle difference the colours now are less intense
than those seen by the light of day. As if they’re altered in some way
Although I’m forced to recognise this may be due to tired eyes
I’m half convinced against my will that moonlight can and does instil
some new dimension to how we see.Adding some new delicacy
to our perception of the light. Perhaps we achieve clearer sight.
28-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Unashamed Art
The artist who hides the model's beauty
won't allow others to see
the beauty of the model who poses
hidden by drapery.
But the artist who describes the beauty
allows the model to be
adorned in the garment given by God
which is painted naturally.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Light and Movement
The sky is blue bright sunshine shows
the changing colours of the trees.
Which ripple in the playful breeze
A changing tapestry that glows
with autumn colours which compose,
contrasts and subtle harmonies
An artist palette sure to please
the eye of anyone who knows.
That they are free to look their fill
on Mother Natures artistry.
A still life which is never still
but always moving fluidly.
Obedient to the artists will
eschewing mediocrity.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Decalogue Of The Artist
I. You shall love beauty, which is the shadow of God
over the Universe.
II.There is no godless art. Although you love not the
Creator, you shall bear witness to Him creating His likeness.
III.You shall create beauty not to excite the senses
but to give sustenance to the soul.
IV. You shall never use beauty as a pretext for luxury
and vanity but as a spiritual devotion.
V. You shall not seek beauty at carnival or fair
or offer your work there, for beauty is virginal
and is not to be found at carnival or fair.
VI. Beauty shall rise from your heart in song,
and you shall be the first to be purified.
VII.The beauty you create shall be known
as compassion and shall console the hearts of men.
VIII.You shall bring forth your work as a mother
brings forth her child: out of the blood of your heart.
IX. Beauty shall not be an opiate that puts you
to sleep but a strong wine that fires you to action,
for if you fail to be a true man or a true woman,
you will fail to be an artist.
X. Each act of creation shall leave you humble,
for it is never as great as your dream and always
inferior to that most marvelous dream of God
which is Nature.
poem by Gabriela Mistral
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An Artist
An artist paints with brush so old
Makes his painting worth gold
He paints the nature's gifted gifts
The flowing rivers in the midst
Of all he paints is a pretty face
A girl dressed all in lace
Portraying her beauty he is lost in time
The beauty she possessed is hard to find
Was it her beauty he tried to captivate?
But what a pity time doesn't wait
For she has gone so far away
Leaving her image with the artist to stay
Who paints her all through day and night?
Seeking pleasure deep inside
poem by Meena Mustafa
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The Most Beautiful by Far
You're the beauty of the stars
And the beauty of a rose
From your cute squinty smile
To your little button nose
No figure on earth
Would dare challenge you
Your beauty is untarnished
From my point of view
When you die and go to heaven
All the angels will sing your name
Wishing every second
That they could look the same
No artist could capture
Your beauty or your grace
Your gorgeous dark locks
And your stunning little face
So when you see a rose
Or gaze upon the stars
You'll know I see your beauty
The most beautiful by far
poem by Patrick Coombe
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Viewers are like artists.
An artist perceives, abstracts,
Concretize and present a form.
A viewer perceives, connects,
Abstracts and relate to real thing.
The beauty of the art enhances
From the style the artist employs.
The beauty of the art is understood
From the mind the viewers apply.
To be a viewer is as special as an artist.
All aren’t viewers as all aren’t artists.
14.05.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Liz no more
Words may prove to be less
She had kind and unforgettable face
Those memorable lines may stay for ever
Her role as an artist may always be cheered
Hardly in any decade have you had such beautiful flower?
Not for outer beauty but for kind and memorable nature
Memory may fade away but not her contribution
It was really a golden period which really marked revolution
Liz you will be shining star on the horizon
Many hearts were broken and won
You will be remembered for your outstanding performance
Beauty and honor will go side by side with romance
Great souls appear rarely on earth
They will be mourned gravely on their death
Leave behind a great mark for mankind
Rarely we come across or find
Liz you were on lease from the God
You have departed for the good
Someone else may try and take over
As an artist you never desired any cover
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A Beauty Natural Is True!
Is beauty woman?
Is beauty Art?
Is beauty Nature?
Man explores beauty
In woman, Art and Nature
To find out true beauty!
Woman makes up herself beautiful;
Art is made up full of beauty;
But Nature is simply natural;
For, Nature is true and simple forever!
So, natural is beautiful
And Nature is true beauty!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Finding beauty
Is Beauty like pornography?
-identified by sight.
Is the 'eye of the beholder' school
the one that got it right?
For them a pleasing symmetry,
of eyes, lips, breasts and hips
is ample justification
to launch a thousand ships.
For them beauty is genetic,
gifted by heredity
you get it from your parents-
much like their insanity.
For most, its unattainable-
that certain je ne sais quoit-
Still women spend a fortune
on beauty in a jar.
Lust for curves? -drive the Taconic
or the Pacific Coast Highway.
They both boast scenic beauty
and have fewer tolls to pay.
Instead seek beauty in her eyes,
the mirror of her soul.
For they will remain beautiful
as together you grow old
poem by John F. McCullagh
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In an Old Book
Forgotten between the leaves of an old book—
almost a hundred years old—
I found an unsigned watercolor.
It must have been the work of a powerful artist.
Its title: "Representation of Love."
"...love of extreme sensualists" would have been more to the point.
Because it became clear as you looked at the work
(it was easy to see what the artist had in mind)
that the young man in the painting
was not designated for those
who love in ways that are more or less healthy,
inside the bounds of what is clearly permissible—
with his deep chestnut eyes,
the rare beauty of his face,
the beauty of anomalous charm,
with those ideal lips that bring
sensual delight to the body loved,
those ideal limbs shaped for beds
that common morality calls shameless.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Sonnet -Indelible Art?
How far an artist takes his art forward?
If labour hard is continued for long,
It dedication has not disappeared,
And Pride has not polluted his art’s song.
One's art improves if Will of God is there;
If Luck and Pluck come timely to his aid;
If vices poison not his mind to err;
And love enters his art when it is made.
For art lives longer than the artist's age;
And brings alive the beauty it derived;
All life, the artist must truly manage;
To perfect works of art in which he’d strived.
Such art alone will stand the test of time,
For it has made the Artist's life sublime.
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Beauty
The flesh gets beauty, when draped by its skin;
The soul loses beauty, when filled by sin;
The beauty of things is seen when revealed;
The beauty of unseen things is concealed.
Woman! Thy beauty is in concealment;
Nature, thy beauty is the Firmament;
O Man! Thy beauty is by revealing;
Heart, Thy beauty is in deep feeling.
The Grace of God is the dress of the soul!
The Stars, Sun and Moon- the dress of the ‘bowl’! ’
Just as how skin protects the body’s flesh,
Good deeds make a soul beautiful and fresh.
Doing good in life is most important;
Avoiding harm is more significant.
3-1-2000
poem by John Celes
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African Mama
African Mama as she struts down the catwalk
African mama with that multi-colored headdress
Vuluptuous woman
Independant woman
A woman of style
Africa's pride
Not fasion model's skinny legs
and flat bottom
Not half-shrunk cloth over disapearing waistline
Curves of Africa
Beauty of Africa
She is unconventional
Under-rated
Rich Beauty
Shocked faces stare as she transforms the stage
with her multi-faceted elagance
with her charm
and many colours
She is proud to be a woman
She she is mother
she is daughter
she will one day be grandmother telling stories around fireplaces
Her beauty is more than magazines
more than clothing
Her beauty is in who she is
In her free spirit
In her deep soul
In her rhythem
And in her heritage
She is Mama Africa
A woman of beauty
poem by Jessica Nobubele Frame
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