Beauties Nucleus, Gloria
.
My darling,
If I was a painter
a master of repute,
A genius of deft strokes
to sketch the charcoal base.
One thousand years of learning
need I,
indeed,
to reproduce the beauty
that dwells within your soul,
and reflects upon your face.
poem by Ken e Hall
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JESUS CHRIST and The Painter
Dear Jesus,
.
If I was a painter a master of repute
A genius of the deft stroke,
To sketch the charcoal base
A thousand years of learning need I indeed
To reproduce the beauty
that dwells within your soul and
Reflects upon your face.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anniversary Poem to My Darling Gloria
The years fly our love grows stronger
Time bonds our life truly fonder
Weekday Sunday every day
Decades prove love will stay,
These words I say I know are true
Simply fact that ‘I love you'
.
.
NB.As teenagers 19 and 16 we wed
57 years ago July 1955. I wrote a poem
‘Gloria' {Published and sits on the
First page of an anthology of 200 poems]
Beauties Nucleus Gloria.
My darling,
If I was a painter
a master of repute,
A genius of deft strokes
to sketch the charcoal base.
One thousand years of learning
need I,
indeed,
to reproduce the beauty
that dwells within your soul,
and reflects upon your face.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Charcoal Night
On a charcoal night the owl calls.
On a charcoal night wolves sharpen their claws.
On a charcoal night children shake with fear.
The charcoal night is growing near.
On a charcoal night the demon dogs sing.
On a charcoal night the little stars gleam.
On a charcoal night the air goes cold.
The nightmares and stories are always told.
On a charcoal night wolves wet their fangs.
On a charcoal night the owls call rang.
On a charcoal night the beasts are out.
On a charcoal night this is their town.
On a charcoal night lock up the doors.
On a charcoal night don't sleep on the floors.
On a charcaol night say good bye to those dear.
Because the charcaol night is finally hear.
poem by Okami Kamikaze
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What might be taken for a precocious genius is the genius of childhood. When the child grows up, it disappears without a trace. It may happen that this boy will become a real painter some day, or even a great painter. But then he will have to begin everything again, from zero.
quote by Pablo Picasso
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Question About Art
Our world forgets – has never known, perhaps –
that questions are a treasured magic wand:
the question asked, the answer may, most like, come freshly said
out of a space that’s new alike to teacher and to taught;
your question is today – how factual should I leave
my verse, or should I seek to ‘colour’ it with metaphor? …
this image comes to mind: ‘old master’ in his studio,
famed painter of Madonnas with attendant Child;
demand’s incessant; so he draws the outlines in,
and passes on the canvas to his studio hand;
coloured then, maybe he adds the master’s touch of life -–
the smile of angel’s sweetness on the Madonna’s face;
the glimpse of future in the Christ Child’s eyes;
and off it goes to some great patron’s church,
to comfort all of womanhood in woes and joys,
its colours gleaming candlelit in sacred prayer;
and yet, how connoisseurs may treasure that quick sketch
on scrap of hand-made paper, where the very touch
of sanguine chalk or silverpoint, reveal the immediate mind
of that old master, as it found the new track of the line;
the world will praise, admire, your coloured image of Her face;
but She will see, in pencilled sketch, how love springs from her grace..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Beauty Of Love!
Beauty reflects in the behaviour and performance;
Beauty lives in loving care, kind words, gentle act;
Outward love is the index of inner beauty of soul!
Beauty thrives on art, music and poetry forever;
Natural beauty reflects the beauty of God ever;
Beautiful music reflects voice of God beautiful!
Beauty, music and love are where heaven exists
Making life ever enjoyable to live on the Earth with
Colourful Sky, birds and flowers as back ground!
Morning Sunrise with birds singing to wake one
The day begins with beauty and joy to see again
Beautiful happenings of day's work to satisfaction!
Evening Moon-rise preceding Stars in the night Sky
Twinkling as diamond jewels is beauty eternal to peace!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Afternoon Musings 5
i am sorry darling
i am a ten or more thousand miles away from you
i am sorry darling
i could have given you a little love from my heart
but you are also twenty or more thousand miles away from me
i am indeed sorry my darling
all you know is just this distancing away from everybody
and i am learning a little of your game
point A running away from point B
not to make a bridge but just this long, long, long line
of separation, a debunking demarcation away from the land
to the sea and to the other sea
you never imagine that in doing so
from one far end to another end you finally form a circle
finding me and everyone inside you
don't ask me but the world is still round
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Master Painter
The master painter unfolds his palette
Strokes generously with his brush,
The sky explodes with images of delight,
An inspiration, for the mind, and heart.
Turner would be envious of such a canvas.
But all too soon the inspiration fades
The light extinguishes and darkness comes
For just moments you painted with your mind
Flew with the eagles into the soaring beauty
Escaped the everyday for the world of imagination
poem by James Tipp
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Sketch Book
If I may,
allow thee,
stand
lay
find
your
pose.
Will sketch thee in thy book.
Charcoal
grainy
dark
smudges blending,
image
take
form.
Disrobe
do not,
remove thy cloth
woven
cotton
cover
disguise
thy body shape
curves
contours
angles.
Distraction.
Already have sketch in hand,
conjured forth,
time
and
time
again.
Thy body shape,
lies beneath,
across they clothing drape?
Still life.
Artists interpretation.
Thy beauty.
Recline,
arm at side
other over head
finger poised
chin angled toward thee
eyes at slight glance,
legs
lounging
relaxed
ankles crossed.
Nude.
Exposed.
Yes,
of course.
Anywhere you would like,
when
your
ready.
Will sketch thee in thy book.
poem by Gary Kedron
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What's Inside?
He who sees the sunlight
Give thanks for each new day,
He keeps his Hopes always bright
And smiles Sadness away.
He who dwells in Darkness
Will brood and sulk, decay.
His life is all Unhappiness
Thinks wrong in what we say.
Water reflects the face
A heart reflects the man,
What's inside marks a trace
Of a good or evil man.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Here Comes The Sun
George harrison
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say its all right
Little darling, its been a long cold lonely winter little darling, it feels like years since its been here here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say its all right
Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces little darling, it seems like years since its been here here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say its all right
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting little darling, it seems like years since its been clear here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say its all right
Its all right
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Many a genius has been slow of growth. Oaks that flourish for a thousand years do not spring up into beauty like a reed.
quote by George Henry Lewes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am At Home With Kafka
.
I AM AT HOME WITH KAFKA
I am at home with Kafka -
I know his soul
I read it as mine own so many years ago-
His father as my father
And his face as my grandmother's,
Lean and white and long
With its own deep beautiful sadness-
Anxiety is mine-
And fear is mine-
And parable is mine-
And yet
His genius is his and not mine
He is Kafka
And I am only one of many readers-
I am at home with Kafka
I know his soul
But I am not Kafka-
Kafka is a genius of mankind
And I am a little man writing forgettable lines
Still alive
Many long years after the age
The holy genius went to his grave unrecognized.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I just want to say.....
dropping everything, leaving things that annoyed
and waiting to glimpse in a while your beauty
resembled my entity, what make you so precious
to see, the cold as the winter solstice it reflect, nay
the lunar eclipse it possess your the one i adore
before it comes to an end, start the looks that make
me same, then sooth me in your cream, paste me
my darling that never fail, pull me to be near, in your
soul as i call, in your face make me fool
melt me then in your heart reflects, where in the
eyeballs make me sad; cleanse my tears for the joy
I ripe, wipe out my emptiness of sorrow and tear,
I recall
now as I face in the pedestal you ask, drink with me
the kiss that lay, the heart cease only between you
and me, fan the warm soul it regret, in my beautiful
land you loot
as you’re with me today, promises that even in hell
I will live with thee......
poem by Antonio Liao
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Storm, Momentary, Forever
Then summer said goodbye
to the station. Lifting its cap,
the thunder took souvenirs,
hundreds of shots on the fly.
The lilac went black. And that
instant, gathering whole armfuls
of lightning, the far clearing lit
the white station-master’s shack.
And when the whole roof ran
with a fierce torrent of malice,
and, like charcoal onto a sketch,
the rain crashed down on the fence,
consciousness started to flash,
here, it seems, flooding in play
even the corners of mind
where it’s always bright as day.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Painting Jealousy
Her lips spell his name...
her cheeks, his smile.
Her tender glance reflects his soul,
as though his shadow made her whole.
I tried to paint her silent lips
till it clamored out his name.
And when I tried to sketch her cheeks...
I saw his smile, it's all the same.
Yet when I tried to paint her eyes,
in my canvas it's his face.
And so I stopped painting her,
and stopped loving her as well.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Here Comes The Sun (Live With Ringo & Eric Clapton )
Here comes the sun (du dn du du)
Here comes the sun
And I say
It's alright
Little darling
It's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling
It feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun
And I say
It's alright
Little darling
The smiles returning to the faces
Little darling
It seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun
And I say
It's alright
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes (four times)
Little darling
I feel that the ice is slowly melting
Little darling
It seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun (du dn du du)
Here comes the sun
And I say
It's alright
Here comes the sun (Du du du du)
Here comes the sun
It's alright
It's alright
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Endearment
In my thatched house
On the gloomy passage
Towards the altar
I sketch your fairy face
With that dimple
On your chin!
And it's not Moon
Moonlight it reflects from the Sun.
Your mozzarella fingers
Holding an unvarnished flower.
My zigzag road full of pitfalls & thorns,
Please do not get frightened of my upheaval
And I give you my feeble shaky hand
As a suppliant for a piroutte!
*Dedication to my deceased Grandson 'Prabashwara' who bid Goodbye two days ago, I am sure that your lonely resting place full of fireflies and no darkness at all! May you rest in peace my darling son and I give you a little shout on & off! Your poor Grandma gave her kind regards too.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Here Comes The Sun
Here comes the sun (du dn du du)
Here comes the sun
And I say
Its alright
Little darling
Its been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling
It seems like years since its been here
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun
And I say
Its alright
Little darling
The smiles returning to the faces
Little darling
It seems like years since its been here
Here comes the sun (du dn du du)
Here comes the sun
And I say
Its alright
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes (four times)
Little darling
I see the ice is slowly melting
Little darling
It seems like years since its been clear
Here comes the sun (du dn du du)
Here comes the sun
Its alright
Here comes the sun (du du du du)
Here comes the sun
Its alright
Its alright
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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