Word World Images
Poetic artist intuitively disposes
word world images transcending accepted meanings.
Magic superposes facettes prismatic, proposes music
surfeit. Seurat’s points paint interactions -
shows all is one, one all - key cues man’s heart.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not Only Violins and Roses
A poet is an artist who disposes
upon an un tau[gh]t canvas wor[l]ds which set
against each other suddenly forget
accepted meanings. Magic superposes
facettes prismatic - music it proposes
which, surfeiting, fresh appetites will whet.
Like Seurat’s coloured points, together met,
the poet pillows words in many poses
in painting interactions, - what he shows is
the all is one, the one is all, and yet
leaves scope for further progress, as a debt
he owes the Past, bequeaths the future, closes
no doors but leaves posterity to find
with open mind the key to light man’s heart.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Images Birth Wet Paint Born
wet on wet paint on paint
layers of wet paint applied
to previous layered layers
images birth wet paint born
images born in liquid imagination
images born in landscape infinity
images born in individual creativity
images born in artistic genius ability
images born in limitless multiplicity
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also the poems ‘Layers Of Wet Paint Applied’ and ‘Interactions Invoke Imagination Entrances’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Images
I think images are worth repeating
Images repeated from a painting
Images taken from a painting
From a photo worth re-seeing
I love images worth repeating
Project them upon the ceiling
Multiply them with silk screening
See them with a different feeling
Images, oh, images
Images, oh, images
Some say images have no feeling
I think theres a deeper meaning
Mechanical precision or so its seeming
Instigates a cooler feeling
I love multiplicity of screenings
Things born anew display new meanings
I think images are worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, oh, images
Images, images
Im no urban idiot savant
Spewing paint without any order
Im no sphinx, no mystery enigma
What I paint is very ordinary
I dont think Im old or modern
I dont think I think Im thinking
It doesnt matter what Im thinking
Its the images that are worth repeating
And repeating, oh, images
Images
If youre looking for a deeper meaning
Im as deep as this high ceiling
If you think technique is meaning
You might find me very simple
You might think that images boring
Cars and cans and chairs and flowers
You might find me personally boring
Hammer, sickle, mao tse tong
Mao tse tong
Ooohhh, images, images
Images
I think that it bears repeating
The images upon the ceiling
I love images worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, images
Oh, images, oh, images
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man proposes, but God disposes.
quote by Thomas Kempis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man proposes, and God disposes.
quote by Ludovico Ariosto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Magic Word
with one little magic word
he tried to steal my heart
not sure of the purpose or why
but he had a plan with a chart
and one little magic word
with a devious look in his eye
but i am way to smart for him
i have words and numbers
with a little magic spell
and even paint beautiful colours
oh and i can keep a secret
if you wish to tell
poem by Rachel Nichols
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Living In The World Of Art Dealers
Of art dealers ‘commit misery death of art’
Decorate houses with domesticated flowers
The wild ones never grown with your hair
Bathing in floral ornaments of a peaceful world that’s not to be
That’s never been
Did you know that words can kill
Words kill words
Words kill meanings and shades
Uninterpret facests of the world interpretable
Did you know words can sing
They sing both good and evil
There’a word and an anti word
The former born to heal
The latter born to kill
Bend your brow to your feet
And see
The feet moving in two different directions
Even though you still might be standing
On the tip of your mind
Thinking you’re a bird
The mind just a permanent rest of the wings
But it’s not true
As one day you might wake up and find
A weapon artist in yourself
A healer artist in yourself
And you also may find out
That the world does not sway
In parochial floral design of an escape home
No matter how much you tried
To squeeze the happy colours from your walls
The paint will ooze in a slapping hand
The music turn aleathorically
The words divorce rhethorically
Once in a while
The slap will make you choose
Between a weapon wound
And healer heart
Between cheek turning silence
And words
It would be ideal to pick up both
And silence speak
But you are not God
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When you give an artist a canvas, you shouldn't tell him exactly how much paint to put on it, or exactly how sharp the images should be. You should let the artist get going.
quote by Reed Hundt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My suggestion is that at each state the proper order of operation of the mind requires an overall grasp of what is generally known, not only in formal logical, mathematical terms, but also intuitively, in images, feelings, poetic usage of language, etc.
quote by David Bohm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Homo proponit, sed Deus disponit
Homo proponit, Sed Deus disponit
Man proposes, God disposes
Evil man seeks to spread
Sly and cunning smiles
Conman games they love to play
God frowns upon such foolish mortals
Reaching out with an iron hand of steel
To punish and to end
Those and that that would go againest him
Nothing material matters
Nothing but him in this world should one care for
Thunderbolts and lightening he sends
Disposing with goodness
The evil that mortal man proposes
Deep in this earth
Where eternally the battle between good and evil rages still
2008 Ramona Thompson
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Man Means Mankind
‘Man proposes; God disposes.'
Here man denoted the whole mankind,
In which woman is inclusive.
Woman's to take no inhibition in the usage.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Originality depends only on the character of the drawing and the vision peculiar to each artist.
quote by Georges Seurat
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pride not
Man proposes and chance disposes.
One’s progress is bound by chance
And by one’s innate weakness as well.
Your efforts are not the sole cause; pride not.
31.07.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Interactions Invoke Imagination Entrances
illusionism create a work of art
a work of art birth appears shares
physical space with vision viewers
entranced in mind memory emotions
interactions invoke imagination entrances
fascinate with etched brushstroke embraces
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also the poems ‘Images Birth Wet Paint Born’ and ‘Layers Of Wet Paint Applied’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Word
Find the word, understand the word,
Depend on the word;
The word is heaven and space, the word the earth,
The word the universe.
The word is in our ears, the word is on our tongues,
The word the idol.
The word is the holy book, the word is harmony,
The word is music.
The word is magic, the word the Guru.
The word is the body, the word is the spirit, the word is being,
The word Not-being.
The word is man, the word is woman,
The Worshipped Great.
The word is the seen and unseen, the word is the existent
And the non-existent.
Know the word, says Kabir,
The word is All-powerful.
The Artists
you are the best artists
You hang my skin on the wall and drew me with ulna dip into my blood
You are great
You drew my face on your heart and paint it with love
You sew my name on your lip and pin it to the cloud
You background me with you in the distant future
Holding our seeds with smile of euphoria
You are my artist
You drew my mistakes on my chest and erase
It with your hand wrapping me softly
You blend our soul and mind and mount it as a kite flying the banner of bliss
You are beautiful
I've paint your heart with musk, your lip with honey and you skin with amber
We are both an artist
We carved ourselve with due
You clipped my eyes to the moon
I clipped the stars to you hair with galaxies of flower decorating our world
You my artist
You drew me with the world gazing at your statue hanging on the sky with flying nymphs sing songs of our artistic shadow
poem by Kemurl Fofanah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do You Believe In Magic
Do you believe in magic in a young girl's heart
How the music can free her, whenever it starts
And it's magic, if the music is groovy
It makes you feel happy like an old-time movie
I'll tell you about the magic, and it'll free her soul
but It's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock and roll
If you believe in magic don't bother to choose
If it's jug band music or rhythm and blues
Just go and listen it'll start with a smile
it won't wipe off your face no matter how hard you try
Your feet start tapping and you can't seem to find
How you got there, so just blow your mind
If you believe in magic, come along with me
And we'll dance until morning till theres just you and me
And maybe, if the music is right
I'll meet you tomorrow, sort of late at night
And we'll go dancing, baby, then you'll see
How the magic's in the music and the music's in me
Yeah, do you believe in magic, yeah
Believe in the magic of a young girl's soul
Believe in the magic of a rock and roll
Believe in the magic that can set you free
aaahhh, im talkin bout the magic
Do you believe in magic, yeah
Do you believe like I believe
Now do you believe like I believe in magic
Do you believe like I believe
Do you believe like I believe
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Poetry There Is No Poverty
there is no poverty in poetry: it is a rich world
of flowers
and magic, of images that imaginations create
a warm sun
the deep blue sea, some mysteries of words
that come
and seemingly carry with them a bountry of meanings
liberation, oblation, jubilation
expression
birds coming out from our mouths
butterflies from our
stomachs
fireworks from our minds
in multicolors
to the darkest skies
of this earth
where can poverty
be
in a world of freedom: to say what you want to say
to think what you want to think
to dream
to imagine
to find meanings where others think there are none?
the secret garden
a path
a gate
a hiding place for all of us who still believe
about life
and aftelife and life after life
temporary deaths
and temporary losses
a jump a leap to the world beyond us
to eternity
we are meant
this i think is poetry and surely
there can never be
poverty
poem by Ayi Escalona
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Two heart music
Music is
With out
Writing word...
Music is
with ou
Drowing for paint...
Music is
With out
A Speaking word...
Music is
Not with out 0f
LOVE....
love...
love...
Two heart music is
Love...!
Music also a love...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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