A Flower. Painted By Simon Varelst
When famed Varelst this little wonder drew,
Flora vouchsafed the growing works to view;
Finding the painter's science at a stand,
The goddess snatch'd the pencil from his hand,
And finishing the piece, she smiling said,
Behold one work of mine that ne'er shall fade.
poem by Matthew Prior
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The Genius of Painting
ADDRESSED TO D——M——
The Genius of Painting one summer eve stray'd,
In a moment of leisure, to Flora's bright bower,
Where, scatter'd around, by the hand of the maid,
In the richest profusion, bloom'd many a flower.
“Oh, see,” Flora cried, as the Genius drew nigh,
“What an Eden of beauty is blossoming here!
But yet”—and a tear-drop stood bright in her eye,—
“How soon will its loveliness all disappear!
“Oh Genius! bid them still live in your art,
And my gratitude well shall your kindness repay;
To some favour'd mortal your spirit impart,
And teach him to rescue my flowers from decay.”
Behold I have rear'd, in my favourite bower,
A shrine, and an altar, dear Painting, for you;
And there will I offer each loveliest flower,
As often as morning their sweets shall renew.”
“Many thanks, dearest Flora!” the Genius cried,
“Though many an altar and temple is mine,
That with richer and costlier gifts are supplied,
Yet none of them all shall be dearer than thine.
“I will gift with my spirit whoever you will,
Yet choose not, dear Flora, the renegade man;
For the ingrate from you will be wandering still,
O'er fields more extended and varied to scan.”
At this instant, a maiden drew near to the bower,
And Flora's own fondness beam'd soft from her eye,
As with rapture she hung o'er each beautiful flower,
Or heaved o'er the dying a tremulous sigh.
Flora turn'd on the Genius a smile of delight—
“There, Painting,” she cried, “is my favourite maid!
Infuse in her bosom your genius bright,
And soon shall your altar be richly array'd.”
“On that maid, then,” said he, “shall my spirit descend,
A bright, and unfading, and beautiful gem;
The young favourite of Flora my shrine shall attend,
And the priestess of painting shall still be D. M.”
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To his Mistress
IF he that erst the form so lively drew
Of Venus' face, triumph'd in painter's art ;
Thy Father then what glory did ensue,
By whose pencil a Goddess made thou art.
Touched with flame that figure made some rue,
And with her love surprised many a heart.
There lack'd yet that should cure their hot desire :
Thou canst inflame and quench the kindled dire.
poem by Henry Howard
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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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A Toast To Wilkie Collins
FEBRUARY 16, 1874
THE painter's and the poet's fame
Shed their twinned lustre round his name,
To gild our story-teller's art,
Where each in turn must play his part.
What scenes from Wilkie's pencil sprung,
The minstrel saw but left unsung!
What shapes the pen of Collins drew,
No painter clad in living hue!
But on our artist's shadowy screen
A stranger miracle is seen
Than priest unveils or pilgrim seeks,--
The poem breathes, the picture speaks!
And so his double name comes true,
They christened better than they knew,
And Art proclaims him twice her son,--
Painter and poet, both in one!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Painter's Life
I do not envy painter's life
Of turpentine and palette knife
Forever waiting for the hand
That rests upon depression's stand
I do not envy gessoed sheets
Awaiting brushstrokes soon to meet
Yet when the work is almost done
Ripped up, unseen by anyone
I do not envy hopeless hours
Expecting inspiration's powers
To seize and lift a dull malaise
And turn a lifeless work ablaze
I do not envy people's awe
Appreciation's loud hurrah
When masterpieces are displayed
The costs the painter for them paid
There is a price for gifts bestowed
None yet has walked the royal road
For each must very dearly pay
To use them or he'll surely stray
I do not envy painter's life
Of turpentine and palette knife
Forever waiting for the hand
That rests upon depression's stand.
poem by Liilia Talts Morrison
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A Piece Of You
Im just trying to live this life of mine
The more I look, the more Im blind
And all I ask for is piece of mind
And all I want is a piece of you
Well I lost my way today
Back home from work
The snow fell like dust
I felt like dirt
Happens everytime I start to search
For that long lost piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
It seems the last time I was sure
Of anything
I sold my heart
I wore your ring
But now, the queen has lost her king
All I want is a piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Painted House Is Like A Poem.
In a way-A house painter is like a poet...
The house painter or average person just might not know it.
A lot of cleaning, sanding and preparation of the surface takes care and time...
Compositions, editing and thought polishes the rhyme.
When finished, they both are a work of art...
A lot of sweat and work is done by the artist's own part.
In the end, a finished polished piece...
Makes the artist, happy and at peace.
The work is finally done...
What hard work, finished-Now
feelings of enjoyed fun.
poem by Michael Gale
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Lily Of The West
When first I came to louisville, some pleasure there to find
A damsel there from lexington was pleasing to my mind
Her rosy cheeks, her ruby lips, like arrows pierced my breast
And the name she bore was flora, the lily of the west.
I courted lovely flora some pleasure for to find
But she turned unto another man whose sore distressed my mind
She robbed me of my liberty, deprived me of my rest
Then go, my lovely flora, the lily of the west.
Away down in yonder shady grove, a man of high degree
Conversin with my flora there, it seemed so strange to me
And the answer that she gave to him it sore did me oppress
I was betrayed by flora, the lily of the west.
I stepped up my rival, dagger in my hand
I seized him by the collar, and bodly made him stand
Seing mad by desperation I pierced him to the breast
All this for lovely flora, the lily of the west.
I had to stand my trial, I had to make my plea
They placed me in the witness box and then commenced on me
Although she swore my life away, deprived me of my rest
Still I love my faithless flora, the lily of the west.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Worst Band In The World
Its one thing to know it but another to admit
Were the worst band in the world
But we dont give a....
If garbo played guitar with valentino on the drums
Then wed be nothing more than a bunch of darma bums
So tune up, tune up
Well weve never done a days work in our life
And our records sell in zillions
It irrigates my heart with greed
To know that you adore me
Up yours, up mine
But up everybodys that takes time -
But were working on it
Working on it (ooh)
We never seen the van - leave it to the roadies -
Never met the roadies - leave them in the van
All because of circumstances way beyond control
We became the darlings of this thing called rock and roll, ooh
Here I am a record on a jukebox
A little piece of plastic with a hole, ooh
Play me
Buy me and you play me then my plastic turns to gold
Here we are together on your hi fi
A little piece of plastic with a hole, oh
Fade me, fade me, fade me, fade me.....
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet LXV. To Dr. Parry Of Bath
With some botanic drawings which had been made
some years.
IN happier hours, ere yet so keenly blew
Adversity's cold blight, and bitter storms,
Luxuriant Summer's evanescent forms,
And Spring's soft blooms with pencil light I drew:
But as the lovely family of flowers
Shrink from the bleakness of the Northern blast,
So fail from present care and sorrow past
The slight botanic pencil's mimic powers--
Nor will kind Fancy even by Memory's aid,
Her visionary garlands now entwine;
Yet while the wreaths of Hope and Pleasure fade,
Still is one flower of deathless blossom mine,
That dares the Lapse of Time, and Tempest rude,
The unfading Amaranth of Gratitude.
poem by Charlotte Smith
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The Rose Of Flora
On Brady's tower there grows a flower,
It is the loveliest flower that blows,—
At Castle Brady there lives a lady,
(And how I love her no one knows);
Her name is Nora, and the goddess Flora
Presents her with this blooming rose.
'O Lady Nora,' says the goddess Flora,
'I've many a rich and bright parterre;
In Brady's towers there's seven more flowers,
But you're the fairest lady there:
Not all the county, nor Ireland's bounty,
Can projuice a treasure that's half so fair!'
What cheek is redder? sure roses fed her!
Her hair is maregolds, and her eye of blew.
Beneath her eyelid, is like the vi'let,
That darkly glistens with gentle jew!
The lily's nature is not surely whiter
Than Nora's neck is,—and her arrums too.
'Come, gentle Nora,' says the goddess Flora,
My dearest creature, take my advice,
There is a poet, full well you know it,
Who spends his lifetime in heavy sighs,—
Young Redmond Barry, 'tis him you'll marry,
If rhyme and raisin you'd choose likewise.'
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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I Dont Know Where I Stand
Funny day, looking for laughter and finding it there
Sunny day, braiding wild flowers and leaves in my hair
Picked up a pencil and wrote I love you in my finest hand
Wanted to send it, but I dont know where I stand
Telephone, even the sound of your voice is still new
All alone in california and talking to you
And feeling too foolish and strange to say the words that I had planned
I guess its too early, cause I dont know where I stand
Crickets call, courting their ladies in star-dappled green
Thickets tall, until the morning comes up like a dream
All muted and misty, so drowsy now Ill take what sleep I can
I know that I miss you, but I dont know where I stand
I know that I miss you, but I dont know where I stand
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Workplace Jingle
From the crammed crypt to the script
A new sun has shone on me
It is the Son from Sonzone
And He says come work with me
Be you Martha in the fore
Or that Mary wearing shawl
There’s new lease of life at work
And He says come work with me
Yet one King will have to reign
For all those who want a rain
On their apron or their scalpel
And He says come work with me
When He comes as C-E-O
And you stand up on your toes
Transformation is on us
For He says come work with me
No one jostles to see Him
He’s for one and He’s for all
The workplace is His workplace
And He says come work with me
You may have a piece of chalk
Or duster to wipe the stuff
Or that voice that pierces ears
He just says come work with me
Come stand with me in my stand
Come walk with me in my walk
Come sit with me in my seat
This is how you work with me
poem by Moses Kainwo
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Maghe
The Roman god Janus,
The Roman goddess Februa,
The Roman god of war (Mars) !
The Greek goddess of love (Aphrodite) ,
The Roman goddess of growth (Maia) ,
And Juno, the goddess of women, marriages and childbirth! !
Learn from them to know the wife of Jupiter as well;
For, we are all being saurrounded by the works of the gods and the goddesses!
The Germanic languages,
I am Maghe with the works of the secret codes of life in the land of the living;
But, very quick and eloquent is the muse of my love!
And like the acts of the god Woden in the alnd of many rivers.
The god Thunor (Thor) and the goddess Frigg,
With Old Norse like Venus the goddess of love!
But, try to learn from the old facts to push ahead with the truth always;
For, we are blindfolded to the secrets of this world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Flora gave me fairest flowers
Flora gave me fairest flowers,
None so fair in Flora's treasure:
These I plac'd on Phillis' bowers,
She was pleas'd, and she my pleasure
Smiling meadows seem to say,
Come ye wantons, here to play.
poem by John Wilbye
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A Few Easy Pieces
Piece of this
piece of that
Peace and bliss,
Piece of crap
Peace of mind,
Piece of cake,
piece of work
Piece of steak,
Piece of eight
Piece of the action
Piece of the pie
Peace and satisfaction
Piece in the valley
Piece of glass
piece of my mind
Piece of a….
That’s quite enough now! ! !
Let’s quit this dance
Let’s stop while we’re ahead…
Let’s Give peace a chance
poem by David Whalen
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Year Zero
Be a hero
Kill your ego
It doesn't matter it's all just a pack of lies
Build a new base
Steal a new face
It doesn't matter it's all just to save you
We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away
I will stand by your ground
I will tear down myself
I won't fade
Year zero
Another hero
Is anybody alive here across the line?
Buy a new face
Start a new race
It doesn't matter it's all just to save your face
It's all just to save you
It's all just to save your face
It's all just to save you
We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away
I will stand by your ground
I will tear down myself
I will stand by your ground
I will tear down myself
I won't fade
I won't fade
We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away (We will never fade away)
We'll never fade away (We will never fade away)
We'll never fade away (We will never fade away)
We'll never fade away (We will never fade)
We'll never fade away (We will never fade away)
We'll never fade away (We will never fade)
We'll never fade away
song performed by by 30 Seconds To Mars from 30 Seconds To Mars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living Without Fade
bare
without care
as i run to my share
wings
without rings
as i fly over without means
i live without fade
for great is my faith
in me, unto him i await
her heart so divine
mine heart no design
mine works so precise
some saith, funny
to be dummy
but sweet to be honey
to a friend
mine without end
i trend
the life i spend
speak
without speech
is my wish
without bleach
lie
i tell not, why?
i see not so high
than the sky
leaves
fall and green the seeds
for us to meet the needs
and palm mine leaves
name i have
each thing a name
to identify that web
... catch and aim
nothing identifies
me than the identity
of life
...the love
and keen for life
i live without fade
if i do fade
i had long said
mine body shall fade
and shade
to rest but paid
opn18102012/0828
'fallen leaves' book no.11 of 2012
october 2012
living without fade! !
ntema's unique poetry
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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He Is Happy
as he contemplates
on the miseries of
his friends
piece by piece
weighing
his own
finding out
theirs heavier
and harsher
he laughs
and then writes
piece by piece
what misery is
what happiness
really means
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Licia Sonnets 10
A painter drew the image of the boy,
Swift love, with wings all naked, and yet blind;
With bow and arrows, bent for to destroy;
I blamed his skill, and fault I thus did find
"A needless task I see thy cunning take;
Misled by love, thy fancy thee betrayed;
Love is no boy, nor blind, as men him make,
Nor weapons wears, whereof to be affrayed;
But if thou, love, wilt paint with greatest skill
A love, a maid, a goddess, and a queen;
Wonder and view at Licia's picture still,
For other love the world hath never seen;
For she alone all hope all comfort gives;
Men's hearts, souls, all, led by her favour lives."
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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