Assigned And Commissioned
The picture,
On a canvas painted...
Depicts a specific image,
Much greater than that...
Than the stature presented,
By the creator who made it.
For purposes to solicit a public exhibit.
Certain people selected will be forgiven,
For misdeeds intended.
Since they have an ability to diffuse truth.
No matter how low,
They may stoop to deceive.
With a getting of a reprieve...
To contnue doing as they please.
However...
There is a placement unmistakable,
For others labelled too abstract.
And into custom fittings...
They are deceptively unmatched,
With a matted background...
Known and viewed by just a few,
To be inappropriate for the framing done.
The picture,
On the canvas painted...
Depicts a specific image,
Much greater than that...
Than the stature presented,
By the creator who made it.
For purposes to solicit a public exhibit.
But...
If the painter of a picture,
Is assigned and commissioned...
With a payment no one will turn down to refuse,
Who will not pocket and run...
With a job requested and satisfies when done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Jigsaw Puzzle
Why are there more people saying,
They do not understand what's going on?
When did a picture already painted,
By hints given to connect the dots...
And dried to hang on a wall for years,
Become a jigsaw puzzle?
Have they been standing too close to it?
Or stood too long to watch it collect dust?
And they can't define which pieces,
To separate from the image already made.
AND...
It depicts them clearly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Creation Hath Worked Its Mastery
Creation hath worked its mastery
Into the existence we know as our own.
We are as the statue of David if he were
To claim his existence free from Michelangelo’s hand,
We are a work of perfection that has the ability to deny
Our creator, nature hath a power to paint a picture,
A picture born with the ability to deny its painter
Any right to claim its existence lay within the imagination
Of the artist.
True art takes upon a life of its own,
Its home within the heart of the observer,
Those un-reserved enough to allow the
Canvas marble to speak unto their Hearts.
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Exhibit A
What appears,
Is a clear re-introduction of reality.
You can say it's Exhibit A.
The one quickly scanned...
When sweetened dreams,
Were distributed to be held...
In fat greedy hands.
Exhibit A depicted...
What would occur,
If deceit was released
To be inflicted.
But as always...
As temptations do.
Blind those who believe,
They are among the chosen few.
Those who are usually the ones left screwed.
Exhibit A...
Was not just there on display,
For folks to glance and walk away!
Exhibit A...
Though abstract!
Presented facts of discomforts.
Facts presented by those nonconforming.
Facts shouted out.
And now those degradations...
Come to visit,
Those who are being...
Economically tossed about,
In a suffering they were led to believe...
Would never be theirs to bear!
But...
No one prepared,
For Exhibit A to be harsh on them.
Not those who entertained their selfishness!
Not those who maintained and fed their whims.
Not today!
Not Exhibit A.
To begin all over again for 'them'!
And theirs.
Who flaunted their wares,
Without a mercy they cared to share!
What appears,
Is a clear re-introduction of reality.
You can say it's Exhibit A.
The one quickly scanned...
When sweetened dreams,
Were distributed to be held...
In fat greedy hands.
Now demanding full attention.
An attention that commands!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Plan of Creation
Life's terms, life's rules.
Rules made up by life,
But not the creator of life.
Life tries to challenge the rules of the creator.
It tries to change the rules of the creator.
But the creator can never be changed.
Nor can His rules.
He should never be challenged.
His wisdom and knowledge is the design.
For I am not the designer.
I am merely a part of the plan.
Of the overall design.
A beautiful creation, by a beautiful creator.
My mind is my cage, my box.
To live outside the box is to be truly free.
The creator's creation is creative.
But I am only a piece of the puzzle.
A puzzle is many pieces, that creates a big picture.
For I am not the big picture,
I am merely just a part of it.
I am not the beginning.
I am not the end.
I am just something in between.
I am stuck in the middle.
And there is no place I would rather be.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The picture is all he feels about it, all he thinks worth preserving of it, all he invests it with. If all the qualities which a painter took from the model for his picture were really taken, no person could be painted twice.
quote by Lucian Freud
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Empty Canvas
the canvas is juxtaposition
images colour movement time
time shifts in thought shifts
empty mind space canvas
is whatever artist declares
canvas is painted to be
empty canvas is whatever
canvas is painted to be
endless pigment possibilities
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
ODE TO A PiCtUrE
ODE To A PiCtUrE
Flash-
A Picture
One dimensional in size
Captures an
Image
A moment
in
Time-
A Picture
Works a
Miracle
And makes
Time-
Stand still-
Time-
Moves
As quickly as the
Wind
Is blocked
And made
Frozen
Constant
And
Still-
For One to
Admire a moment,
An Image which
Appears in Different
Shades of
Light…
A Picture
Brings back an
Emotion which
Pumps right through
The Heart-
A sensitive
Delicacy –
Often uncontrolled
And driven on its own
Can be ruled
And triggered
By a Flash-
A speck
Of
Light
With shattering
Colors-
Red,
Blue
And
Green…
A Picture
Not to be measured
In Space but more so
In Time
As it
Sits
Still-
Captured
In
An
Instant
Each
Image
Is
Traced
And
Held
Together
With
Shinny
Little
Sentiments…
Composed
As
Each
Expression
Is made
Visible
At the Palm
Of
One’s
Hand
Held-
Constant
Age less
Memories
Flow
Through
And
Begin to
Sing-
Of
What
Was-
Flash-
A Picture-
Whether it be
Darkness
Or
Lightness
Detections of different states of mind are seen
Emotional sensation in every bodily part
Tell truths of what has been-
A picture
Is cherished
And
Passed down the line-
To take part in the Memories
Once
Lived-
poem by Yvette Nario
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The age of image.
The people who know you
Are the canvas on which
Your image, good or bad,
Is drawn rightly or not.
Mind! The image you built
Will die with the canvas
When it’s torn or worn out.
Yet, each one wants an image.
Don't we desire leaving
A child for our copy,
which will not last long though?
02.01.2009.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Images Presented
The image that's presented,
Determines how impressive...
Those pretentious rush to protect.
And the image that's presented,
Has less to do with intellect.
Or competence and its effect,
Upon those expecting...
Much more than an image projected to accept.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented,
Do not feed!
Those images presented,
No one needs now!
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Live Forever
You painted me a picture of tomorrow
A place where you and I walked hand in hand
A world without despair and without shadows
But things just didn't turn out how we'd planned
Now you're gone
(Chorus)
And I believe that there is somewhere
Where the angels fill the sky
And I believe we'll live forever
You and I, you and I
Will never die
I wonder if you knew that you were leaving
I thought that I saw something in your eyes
You painted me a picture of believing
I'll see you there on the other side
And I'll be there
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
It Doesn't Come Easy
Into a zone I own and claim.
And not only am I featured...
But I'm there in every scene.
Into a zone I own and claim.
And it took me quite a while,
To establish my own style.
It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall at all.
No matter who depicts,
What the picture represents.
It doesn't come easy...
To decide and get the nerve to play ball.
With thoughts of getting rid,
Of any suspect competition.
Into a zone I own and claim.
With thoughts of getting rid,
Of any suspect competition.
Into a zone I own and claim.
With thoughts of getting rid,
Of any suspect competition.
It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall at all.
No matter who depicts,
What the picture represents.
So many find their comforts in like minds.
Hoping that all will agree,
To their wants and spoiled needs.
Into a zone I own and claim.
With thoughts of getting rid,
Of any suspect competition.
Into a zone I own and claim.
With thoughts of getting rid,
Of any suspect competition.
It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall at all.
No matter who depicts,
What the picture represents.
Into a zone I own and claim.
It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall at all.
Into a zone I own and claim.
It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall at all.
Into a zone I own and claim.
It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall at all.
It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall...
At all.
At all.
At all.
It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall...
At all.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Picture Painted Expresses A Thousand Words
People may make claims,
That a picture painted...
Expresses a thousand words.
When exhibited as observed.
And if that is true...
Why is it that the very same people,
Upon getting explicit explanations...
Aren't comprehending what they've heard,
To further ask unending questions?
Or could it be,
That picture painted once received...
Purchased and possessed,
Has deceived one's perception of it...
Once removed from its impressive setting,
That changes its effectiveness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Picture Picture by Tanya Markova
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Nang gabing masilayan ka...
Dala-dala ko pa
Ang aking lumang camera
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Campus gig noon at nag-aya ang tropa
Maraming bebot ang nagsasayaw
Nang biglang mapansin kita
What a beautiful face
At kinunan kita
What a beautiful face
Angat ka sa iba
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face
I saw her face
Mukha syang taga-a a outerspace
Si Mang Roger ako'y kinalabit
Ang sabi
Halika na balot muna
Bago ka mag-konica
Na seramika gawa sa pabrika
Lagot ka na ang kamera may mahika
Ano ang lohika kung bat nahilo ka
Mekaniko si Moniko ng makina ni Monika
What a beautiful face
Bigla kang nawala
What a beautiful face
Ako'y natulala
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Mekaniko si Moniko ng makina ni Monika
What a beautiful face
O nasaan ka na
What a beautiful face
Hinahanap-hanap ka
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face...
poem by Shi Yelami
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Painter In You!
who has painted your picture in my thoughts,
without a brush, the paints and the pallet,
not even sketched using a pencil and a knife,
the picture is perfect with the colors mixed,
your smiling is great with a thin line at the edges,
your eyes are wide open, sprinkling the cheerful messages,
every time the happy visuals of you pop out in the mind,
I couldn't have drawn such a beautiful portrait,
of you in my heart, who has done this painting?
You are the one who posed and painted on your own,
you are a great painter who can paint your pictures,
on everyone's heart whom you know, love and respect.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God's Canvas Above
The Artist behind the canvas above, the sky's what I'm speaking of,
Stretched above so wide and blue, every day a painting brand new,
God's painting above for all to see, painted by The Lord of Eternity,
The canvas above God's Creation, visible by every man and nation.
He begins every day with the sun, The Creator's Light for everyone,
Keeping God's touch in mind, sometimes the sun He hides behind,
Those clouds, so white and full, all through The Lord's creative rule,
When the Lord does paint the sky, which is seen through every eye.
God ends each day not the same, although the clouds may remain,
As night begins He paints the sun, well over this earth's far horizon,
Turning the sky to a black canopy, to paint those stars that we see,
With the sun replaced by the moon, along with stars that are strewn.
This is just the sky above my friend, for God's Creation has no end,
It goes beyond what we can see, for God is The Creator of Eternity,
But, what God chooses to display, is a witness to all nations today,
His witness that men come to know, The Lord above all men below.
God's Creation, to all mankind, is The Creators testimony to remind,
There's a Creator beyond the sky, One, Who created both you and I,
Whose witness creates accountability, for every person that can see,
That above man there is a Creator, Who sent Christ to be our Savior.
(Copyright ©06/2012)
Her Image
He stared at her picture everyday.
It was something he would always do.
It helped him to remember her lovely face
and helped him make it through
lonely nights without her
and hours that kept him blue.
He saw her image and he remembered
when the picture was taken.
They were so in love. Then she fell ill
and now his heart was achin'.
He kissed her image
and whispered goodnight.
He'd been forsaken.
Her picture was now his prize posession
for it's all he had of her.
Gone was her touch. Gone was her hair,
the strands of it still in his sight.
Gone was the sound of her voice
that always whispered in the night
'I love you.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Oils Of A Painter
Catering for the painter,
His fish has colour,
Like a wonderful picture
Of food on a plate.
The paint is a drink
Of water.
It comprises of air
And gases and solids.
One made a globule of fat
In the stomach
Work for the better,
So not to be painted.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
And I started with this: I have not painted at all my childhood. In fact, I never painted. But I helped my father who was a house painter and decorative painter. He made stage sets, he made glass paintings, he made everything.
quote by Josef Albers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Blush
A beauty discreet, in a picture did meet
Her fate, her life, her soul painted sweet
She blushed and the picture faded into her cheek
And now that blush of love, in her heart we seek
The simple art, of simple love, painted sweet
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Edge Of Beauty...
wherein lies the edge of beauty?
of true expression?
be there more truth
in a picture of fruit....
or a picture of the eyes
of a starving child?
be there more love
in an ancient picture of Jesus,
or the picture of an addict,
shaking on a stoop?
be there more reality
in numbed words carefully written,
or in the story of the evicted family,
penned in raw blood?
be there more beauty
in a picture of supposed angels,
or in a tasteful nude?
be there more freedom
in a picture of the revolution,
or in a photo of freedom's protesters,
being beaten by cops?
be there more justice
in the books you burned,
or in the ones you actually read?
be there more spirituality
in the religious head turned,
or in the sensual bathed in awe?
be there more god in the silent follower,
or in the one who dares to speak?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!