There was a young sculptor from Thanet
Who's favourite medium was granite;
But everyone booed
At his statue, so rude
That the censors decided to ban it.
(Written Oct 2012)
quote by by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Statue Got Me High
The statue got me high
The statue got me high
A monument of granite sent a beam into my eye
The statue made me die
The statue made me die
It took my hand it killed me and it threw me to the sky
The stone it called to me
(and now I see the things the stone has shown to me)
A rock that spoke a word
(an animated mineral it can be heard)
And though I once preferred a human being's company
they pale before the monolith that towers over me
The statue got me high
The statue got me high
The truth is where the sculptor's chisel chipped away the lie
The statue made me fry
The statue made me fry
My coat contained a furnace where there used to be a guy
The stone it called to me
(and now I see the things the stone has shown to me)
A rock that spoke a word
(an animated mineral it can be heard)
And as the screaming fire engine siren filled the air
the evidence had vanished from my charred and smoking chair
and what they found was just a statue
standing where the statue got me high
And now it is your turn
(your turn to hear the stone and then your turn to burn)
The stone it calls to you
(you can't refuse to do the things it tells you to)
And as the screaming fire engine siren fills the air
the evidence will vanish from your charred and smoking chair
and what they found was just a statue
standing where the statue got me high
and what they'll find is just a statue
standing where the statue got you high
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Medium
Medium, medium.
Waking up I smell the scent of coffee on the brew,
And I think about the amount of the sweet,
Id like to have in my cup today.
One for the two lump, three lump, four.
No half of one, no less no more.
Just give me a chance, let me make it mine.
Id like a medium blend of that piece of pie.
Not too bitter, not too sweet... medium.
Just enough to ? ? ? ... medium.
Not too bitter, not too sweet... medium.
Just enough to ? ? ? ... medium.
Dinner time just rolls around,
And I think I crave a steak but,
Im not too partial to the meat,
When its cooked too long and Im made to wait.
Not too much of the parsony,
And just enough of the spice.
I think Id enjoy a medium-rare dish with a side of fries.
Not too tender, not too tough... medium.
Not too little, just enough... medium.
Not too tender, not too tough... medium.
Not too little, just enough... medium.
Medium. medium. medium. medium. just a medium. medium.
? ? ? and I smell the pits but ? ? ? ? ? .
I couldve sworn a ? ? ? last week and scrubbed like ? ? ? .
I like to stink just a little bit,
Just to keep you on your toes yes.
The more I stink the more I think,
That you smell like a rose.
Not too pleasant, not too bad... medium.
Just enough to hold my ? ? ? ... medium.
Not too pleasant, not too bad... medium.
Just enough to hold my ? ? ? ... medium.
Medium. medium. medium. medium. medium. medium.
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sculpture
A creator is aboard, feelings are strong,
They are sinful, tears run fearing the worst.
The creation is a statue, with one wise eye
And another one to see, so that creations appear.
The sculptor made education real, and so much to know
Appeared before us in a performance.
The creators are splendid at their spectacle,
Proofs are made with violence, predators are loose,
The statue will move, but not move.
A maker seems to sew a stonework even,
With the right chisel, the right skill and doctor.
This created, we all feel well inside,
Just like a living statue, a statue to stare at.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I'm Ready!
The tiger climbed his favourite hill
To find his favourite spot,
Somehow that tiger got a thrill,
Up there, though feeling hot...
It wasn't in the shade, that's true,
But, oh, what scenery!
So when, for him, not much to do,
Friends knew where he would be...
'He's off again! ' they'd all observe,
The young 'uns saw him leave,
Some tigers thought, 'He's got a nerve,
We've hardly time to breathe! '
He gave no thought to what they thought,
He wouldn't change his mind!
He was aloof, somewhat self-taught,
In fact, the lonesome kind...
So he stretched out on granite rock,
Content to see the sights...
Why not? He'd never seen a clock,
Especially at these heights...
The hours passed, he stayed flat out,
'Come down, you so-and-so! '
'When I'm ready! ' they heard him shout,
'Till then, I'll stay not go! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'When I'm Ready'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Statue Got Me High
The statue got me high
The statue got me high
The monument of granite sent a beam into my eye
The statue made me die
The statue made me die
It took my hand it killed me and it turned me to the sky
The stone it called to me
(and now I see the things the stone has shown to me)
A rock that spoke a word
(an animated mineral it can be heard)
And though I once preferred a human beings company
They pale before the monolith that towers over me
The statue got me high
The statue got me high
The truth is where the sculptors chisel chipped away the lie
The statue made me fry
The statue made me fry
My coat contained a furnace where there used to be a guy
The stone it called to me
(and now I see the things the stone has shown to me)
A rock that spoke a word
(an animated mineral it can be heard)
And as the screaming fire engine siren filled the air
The evidence had vanished from my charred and smoking chair
And what they found was just a statue
Standing where the statue got me high
And what they found was just a statue
Standing where the statue got me high
And now it is your turn
(your turn to hear the stone and then your turn to burn)
The stone it calls to you
(you cant refuse to do the things it tells you to)
And as the screaming fire engine siren fills the air
The evidence will vanish from your charred and smoking chair
And what they found was just a statue
Standing where the statue got me high
And what theyll find is just a statue
Standing where the statue got you high
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wait, things are shaping up
I approached a sculptor the other day
For carving a statue of
Gautama Buddha
He asked me a number of questions
Some of them were far stretched
Though I answered all of them
I was thinking within that
All these details were unnecessary
He could read my mind and said
These details were needed to help me
Come out with what exactly you were looking for
He suggested my coming to him
Two weeks later
Why so long and he said
Wait things are shaping up
Two weeks later
I saw practically no progress
He showed me a granite block
Which he said he would carve
As Gautama Buddha
He suggested me to visit him
Two weeks later
“Do you not think we are delaying? ”
I asked and he said
Wait things are shaping up
I went to him as suggested
No change at all
The block was under water
And carving had not started
He said that this curing process
Would help him understand
The quality of the block
And he opined
That we were lucky in
Selecting the right granite
And he suggested my visiting him
A week later
“Yes, I know you are wondering
As to why it is taking so much time”
How he could say even without my telling that
He continued
Wait, things are shaping up
A week later
No great change
But the block got castled here and there
No where near my expectations
“Come after three days and see”
But, he assured
Wait, things are shaping up
I made four visits later
At intervals of three, two and one days
I could not make out head or tail
Of what was happening
But, each time I returned
Hearing his words
Wait, things are shaping up
I was wondering
Are things really shaping up
Or am I being fooled
I did not visit him for
Full three months
As I was sure that
I would not be able to appreciate
The progress that the sculptor
Would be claiming to have made
One day, there was a call from him
“Come and see your Gautama Buddha”
I was not excited
I visited his place in all reluctance
And was preparing to hear
Wait, things are shaping up
But, what a surprise
Saw my Gautama Buddha
In a shape and carving
Beyond my belief
And I was not able to control my excitement
“I know you are wondering how this could be possible
But, you know, I was telling each time you visited that
Wait, things are shaping up”
We all do prayers seeking some change
And we wonder as to when the change would fructify
God, like a sculptor is shaping things
But, he never tells
Wait, things are shaping up
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.
quote by Michelangelo
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Sound of Silence
I’m walking down the street
and I hear the sculptor in his house
working on his statue of Krishna
and the chisel rings out on the stone
like a bell that wants to tell you something:
the stone saying, I am perfectly made for this;
the chisel saying, I am perfectly made for this;
the sculptor saying, this is prayer;
Krishna saying, I shall enter this.
And I hear in the sound of the chisel on the stone,
as sure as I know my own name,
that the sculptor is listening to all this too.
The bell-like sound lingers in the air
as if the air would keep it for ever
as the air’s prayer. It’s music.
The clearer the sound
of his striking chisel on stone,
the deeper the silence
as if sound and silence between them
know a secret: that sounds like this
can do anything in the world;
even call Krishna with their music
to play at being stone for us.
The stone’s laughing also:
playing at being Krishna.
They’re both laughing.
The sculptor is smiling too.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There was a musician from Delhi
His favourite composer? - Corelli;
It wasn't Sitar
But in every bar
There was music to tickle your belly.
(Written Sept 2012)
quote by by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forming A Sculpture
All-encompassing are the details he assembled,
To form a physical object, like an author forms a book.
The statue was golden, like a golden book,
Towards the sun it stood and anchored.
My light was not that golden and luminous
As this simple affray of light.
The statue was upset, too intolerant of the sun,
Much space was taken by the sculptor.
A sun is a star of the exact nature,
The sculpture was like this single light and lantern.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The sculptor produces the beautiful statue by chipping away such parts of the marble block as are not needed - it is a process of elimination.
quote by Elbert Hubbard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A thing done has a head. (The exultation of an ancient sculptor on his satisfactorily completing the head of his statue.)
In Your Room
In your room
Where time stands still
Or moves at your will
Will you let the morning come soon
Or will you leave me lying here
In your favourite darkness
Your favourite half-light
Your favourite consciousness
Your favourite slave
In your room
Where souls disappear
Only you exist here
Will you lead me to your armchair
Or leave me lying here
Your favourite innocence
Your favourite prize
Your favourite smile
Your favourite slave
I'm hanging on your words
living on your breath
feeling with your skin
Will I always be here
In your room
Your burning eyes
Cause flames to arise
Will you let the fire die down soon
Or will I always be here
Your favourite passion
Your favourite game
Your favourite mirror
Your favourite slave
I'm hanging on your words
living on your breath
feeling with your skin
Will I always be here
song performed by by Zeraphine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Commonality
Before posting and observed.
The censors wish to approve every word.
And when it is decided,
By those who perceive themselves...
Judges of taste and high quality.
They then release what others see.
As they step over decadence and filth.
Which is with them a commonality.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Meditation Infused Medium Minds
written faith
hooked in words
rapidly writes
write your poems
straight out,
line by line,
no themes,
no plans,
complete as written
written words
written souls
infused medium minds
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Many parts of the granite statues were found, the most important of which had features close to Ramses II. The statue needs some restoration and weighs between four and five tons.
quote by Zahi Hawass
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God-Worship
Statues in competitions allover the world!
With one higher than the other from country to country;
But this act is god-worship.
22m High Statue in 'Maratea' (Italy) ,
25m High Statue in 'Cusco' (Peru) ,
27m High Statue in 'Dili' (East Timor) ,
28m High Statue in 'Lissabon' (Portugal) ,
30m High Statue in 'Cochabanba' (Bolivia) ,
And 38m High Statue in 'Swiebodzin' (Poland) ,
All in the name of competition around this world;
But this act is god-worship.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Unintelligent Design
An hour a day,
sometimes more,
I chipped away
with mallet and chisel
on a block of marble
I found in Carrara
and shipped to New York
on the deck of a trawler.
I offered the marble
to a famous sculptor
who told me he works
in granite only
so I grabbed his beret
and one of his smocks
and said I'd sculpt
the block myself
with whittling skills
picked up as a kid
from a drunken uncle
named Whittling Sid.
Several weeks later,
to my surprise,
I finished the bust
of a chimpanzee
simply by wielding
mallet and chisel
the way I wield
pencil and eraser
when hewing a poem.
Working with marble
or working with words,
a sculptor or poet
proves less is more
by chipping away
until something emerges
upright and walking
with a soul of its own.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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The amount of sophistication varies according to the quality of the medium, and to the state of the same medium at different times; it must be attributed in the best cases physiologically to the medium, intellectually to the control.
quote by Oliver Joseph Lodge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marriage Mystery
There was a man who said
I never knew what happiness was
Until I got married
And then it was too late
Before marriage,
A man yearns for the woman he loves
After marriage,
He earns for the women he loves
Maintain the social decorum
Marriage is social custom
Union of two soul
Sometimes by fair means
Often by foul
Decided by your means
Not by what you need
But decided by your creed
{This was written after thinking about the marriage and its allied benefits and harms.}
Shashikant Nishant Sharma 'साहिल'
==========©SNS==16 May 2012==Delhi==========
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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