0282 A Necessary Art
There's art history, and there's the history of art.
Art history, you can learn anywhere these days;
the history of art's some other, thrilling thing, a life-blood
pumping its heart intensely as if it were a matter
which it is of course, of life and death..
and who will tell you, except those who lived it through,
who will tell you - except perhaps old men;
while the students yawn, stop taking notes,
and wonder if the chick back there
is up for it?
Who will tell you that the truth is savage,
and the world hard earned,
and art, painting, poetry,
a matter of life and death?
Who will tell you, for instance, how after 1945,
when war ended, and 'peace'
was the threat of nuclear annihilation,
the great French artists, who had made
their various accommodations with the occupying power
brought out near ten years' work the world had never seen?
As if archaeologists, searching for the past,
had found instead, the future?
Picasso, Matisse, Leger, Braque - you know the names...
and how Picasso, who never allowed any other artist
to see him at his work, opened his Paris studio
to hordes of American servicemen? Interviewed
in the great French magazine, Cahiers d'Art, in I think
the late 1940s, he said his art was
'une somme des destructions' - a sum of destructions;
and Wallace Stevens, in a lecture at the Met, in 1951,
remembered the phrase, made it his text, and
told the post-war world that painting, as with poetry,
was man's great chance to seek his self - for each of us
to find out who we really are - in ways, we listening
were to assume, which might not always be heard in churches
or from philosophers' petty squabblings..
now today, this may seem a truism put out by slick PR
from auction houses; who can tell you
what it was like to hear that said?
and by so great a poet man?
There's art history, and the history of art.
Who will tell you that the truth is savage
and the world hard earned,
and art, painting, poetry,
a matter of life and death?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Related quotes
Nothing Ever Last
The World's great Empires have gone to decay
They rose and they fell and each had their day
And one Super Power rise as another does fall
And the small will grow great and the great become small.
The Pharoahs and the Aztecs and the Incas as well
And the all conquering Romans too had their glorious spell
And the Spaniards and the British of the recent past
Were known to be great Empires but they too did not last.
The Soviets and Germans great power did command
But their demise not that hard to understand
Since great powers they come and great powers they go
Though nothing lasts forever as history does show.
Genghis Khan and Napoleon and Alexander the Great
These all conquering heroes had their use by date
Though in the history of the World their names living on
The Empires they ruled over like them are long gone.
Un-rivalled for supremacy as the World Super Power of today
By far the most powerful Nation is the U S of A
But as history does tell us nothing ever last
And one day they too will be a power of the past.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Take me to History,
Take me to History,
Take me to History and never see the mistakes,
Take me to that Killings,
Moving on silent,
Like I never knew all that I was doing,
It was mine,
That you saw the your’s coming in the World,
It was Written,
That your’s was never taken,
Take me to History,
That you never meant to Kill Christ,
Humanity is going to foolishness in losing one sheep,
Death is gonna be easy cause life is Hard,
Take me to History,
That the Cowards of Truth will never see the son,
Whatsoever Conquers,
Is the son that is never determined to lose?
It ain’t hard to tell,
That the lacing was all black,
The lace was more than never enough,
You are not the dude that is all losing like foolishness.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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Black History Month
In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.
But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!
Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...
*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Racial history is therefore natural history and the mysticism of the soul at one and the same time; but the history of the religion of the blood, conversely, is the great world story of the rise and downfall of peoples, their heroes and thinkers, their inventors and artists.
quote by Alfred Rosenberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tye
I was once a great queen of Egypt,
Though I ‘am just a lifeless mummy now,
I was once at the heart of Egyptian life,
I became first queen of real power,
I helped shape history through my actions,
My name still lives on today,
People still carry my name after all these years,
I have become as close to immortal as any human can,
History still remembers who I was,
The Tye name lives on across the world,
People still us my name with pride,
Though I died so long ago I still live on,
Showing the world what I achieved,
I was the first woman to become an equal to men,
People respected me for my wisdom and intellect,
I paved the way for all those who followed me,
I was the first of many great queens though-out history,
I ‘am a sign of what could be achieved by one person.
poem by Christopher Tye
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The History of Now
The recording of culture is history;
but our culture is more than that.
It's the world of human action,
and the myths we make of the fact.
The recording of history is culture,
but our history is more than that.
It informs a hidden agenda.
Unconscious of motive we act.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
It's only the present that exists as endowed.
It's the history of now. The moment - KAPOW!
That knocks you right over and muddies your brow.
Through the prism of language, we know what we know.
We carry our baggage and stories of woe.
Victor and vanquished pride cannot budge,
the dead weight of hatred and ancestral grudge.
We fight our good fights with our hand on our heart;
the music is swelling as loved ones depart.
As sheep to the slaughter, the script cannot chart,
a course more ignoble: the propagandist's art.
The recording of history is culture,
but our culture is more than that.
More than the great individuals,
the scholars so love in their tracts.
The recording of culture is history;
but our history is more than that.
Not simple dates or statistics,
the full horror and gore still attracts.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
A strange contradiction that makes sense somehow.
It's the history of now, a mystery and shroud.
The past and the future: best fiction allowed.
poem by David SmithWhite
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War Is Our Worlds History
I Look into a history book.
And what do I see?
Pain and agony, death and suffering,
I see history that tells a lot about our world.
War!
Our world's history is war.
It is the pain and agony, the death and the suffering,
I see large fields of dead bodies,
I see our heritage being destroyed by other people
because it is not what they believe in,
I see people begging for mercy, but they do not get it
instead they get a bullet in the head.
In our history I see many mistakes in which we can learn from,
but we obviously we do not.
They say not to judge a book by its cover,
to me this quote means nothing to our history.
Our history is our cover,
and the book is filled with pain and agony, death and suffering.
Plain and Simple
War!
poem by Christian Cervantes
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Man In The Mirror...
mystery man, history man, dangerous man,
all that are man.
but one man sang,
mystery man,
this man sang,
thrilled the stage with his ways,
danced and raced with out any shame,
mystery man, history man, dangerous man.
He danced thrilling the world,
twirling across the world with his spin,
he with no twin
the world sang with this man,
he made history with history man,
god by his side, he who was never out of sight,
humble was this man, awards he had won,
healing is what he done.
mystery man, history man, dangerous man
his music were thrilling,
his lyrics were smoothing,
his dancing were surprisily healing.
this man who sang was the man in the mirror......
poem by Angel Diaz
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We Sing History
History sings, sings what?
Violence? Peace? No.
History sings of truth…
History sings of facts,
which becomes music to our ears.
Like birds chirping
early in the morning.
We learn it. We treasure it.
We sing it… we sing it.
We became part of it.
It was always burning
since the world’s been turning…
History is an endless song.
Distressing, cheerful.
So many cries, so many deaths.
They fought for freedom,
we fight for peace.
Have we won?
Haven’t they heard we won the war
what do they keep on fighting for?
History sings of truth…
History sings of facts,
which becomes music to our ears?
Like stars gleaming
in the dark naked sky.
It’s always there.
So why sing it? Why hear it?
Why learn it? Why treasure it?
Because…
we’re part of it….
poem by Fritzner Erauda
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You Tell Me Of Your Australian History
You tell me of your Australian history your ancestors were British and Irish pioneers
But your history in this Land is not an old history just two centuries and twenty years
And in time that may seem quite a long span though the combined life spans of three people nothing more
Your ancestors hardly were Aussies they came here from a distant shore.
The first Australians have lived in this Country for longer than most care to know
Their ancestors came here from Asia more than sixty thousand years ago
They are indigenous to this Country all others have links to elsewhere
Yet they still struggle for recognition and that to me seems quite unfair.
Dispossessed by the Northern invaders they never did get back their Land
And that they are now ruled by white people I find that hard to understand
You talk of the history of this Land as if it were only two hundred years old
But then suppose the history of the ancient Dreamtime by white people will never be told.
I was not even born in this Country which makes you more Aussie than I
And though I'm not Nationalistic or Patriotic my heritage I won''t deny
You talk of your pioneering ancestors but why talk of Human history at all
If the history of the first Australians you do not see fit to recall.
You tell me of your pioneering ancestors but one fact you tend to ignore
That they were not born in this Country they came here from a foreign shore
You''d swear by you the Human history of this Land was only two centuries old
But the true history of this great Country by your type will never be told
poem by Francis Duggan
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There is no history of mankind, there are only many histories of all kinds of aspects of human life. And one of these is the history of political power. This is elevated into the history of the world.
quote by Karl Popper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is no history of mankind, there are only many histories of all kinds of aspects of human life. And one of these is the history of political power. This is elevated into the history of the world.
quote by Karl Popper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Super Powers
Who will be World top Super Power in a decade from now
To Asia's waking giant will all others bow
For like every Human Being every Super Power has it's day
And number 2 takes over when number 1 fades away.
In human history many Super Powers have come and gone
But life in the big World out there it goes on
And too much power always seems to go to the leader's head
In the wake of the struggle for power far too many lay dead.
The Super Powers like the Seasons they come and they go
But of the lessons of history too few wish to know
That those who abuse their power as a Super Power does not stay
For arrogance and power drunkeness there's a price to pay.
So many great Super Powers in the distant past
But like everything in life nothing is meant to last
In Asia a sleeping giant is beginning to wake
A great threat to all as his move to the top he will make.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Art Will Show To Eternity Your Soul
I am a woman, using a mirror everyday,
Like all of you, i'm seeing my reflection into it,
Even i am sad, happy, tired or bored,
What i'm seeing in my mirror it's my physical reality, my own truth.
I combed my hair and looked into my mirror,
I felt so delicate, unique and simple,
Having a smile on my face today,
My mirror will smile me back as feedback in same way.
I am a painter, i adore art,
In everything i'm painting it's life,
In each painting and spot of paint my brush does,
It's a history of great ideas my minds holds.
A painting is a gate to our inner side,
Through it vibrates the universe to our hearts,
A mirror will always show your face reflection to the world,
But art will show to eternity your soul.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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Tales of my past
Don't write me down in history,
In reference to my past deeds,
Works I derived no joy from,
Or mistakes of those years.
Don't write me down in history,
The ages gone show little of what I am,
That part of me is truly done,
My dreams now can say it all.
Don't write me down in history,
The lessons of life flows in my blood,
My blunders are now my teachers,
The scars now my daily pledge.
Don't write me down in history,
I am yet to achieve perfection,
Still I strive for redemption,
Searching the soil for my lost glory,
Don't write me down in history,
The tales of my past I recall,
That was then, this is me,
Woes to your judgment.
poem by Venessa Ambrose
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We Affect Forever
We Affect Forever
We are making history, through every day we spend.
We are here, leaving our mark, a mark that will not end.
Others before have left behind this world we now obtain.
Though it’s changed since way back when, the old shall always remain.
History is how we got here, history is who we are.
History is what led to this, yes history is not far.
It remains within our families, its tradition and unchanging ways.
It’s Christmas day, Thanksgiving, its countless nights and days.
History is what you’re becoming; it’s what you are soon to be.
And history never dies; it’s a part of everybody.
We fight to maintain who we are, to maintain who we’ve always been.
And while we fight we know this fight is not easy to win.
Many forget the past, and many never even know,
Many people never hear of how times were long ago.
Those thousands of years before us, are more than just time spent.
They are filled with real people, real feelings, and real places that they went.
The People had different life styles very different from our ways,
But it is true that there is nothing knew under the sun’s golden rays.
Stand proud to be alive, know you affect forever.
Every act that we commit we all commit together.
We are entrusted with this earth; we must love and cherish this life.
We must remember to love our existence lest love becomes our strife.
Yes we are becoming history, through every move we make.
We are here, leaving our mark, a mark ……or perhaps a mistake.
poem by Mary Murphy
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History Maker
History maker World shaker it’s what I wanna be
Going places seeing faces making history
Stepping out not afraid coming up against the enemy
History maker world shaker that’s what I wanna be
Get up and go-there is trouble everywhere
Finding solutions to our problems is so very rare
No more talking cause all the talking’s done
History maker world shaker I already have begun
Stand up for right I am in a fight
Trying with all my might to free them from their plight
History maker world shaker that’s what I want to be
Helping people change, changing history
But I can’t do it alone I need someone
To help me do the job and get it done
Become a history maker starting here today
Be a world shaker follow me I will show the way
Copy Right HN Brown 31 January 2009
poem by Henry Brown
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The History Of Tomorrow
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of light
By dumping us in the dark with pits everywhere
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of food
By asking us to chop several fire-woods to heat up a pot full of stones
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of job creation
By making us slaves on our own soil
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of education
By dumping us in dilapidated buildings without teachers
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of accountability
By looting our treasury and asking us for yet another term in office
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of safety
By leaving pot holes large enough to swallow countless accident victims on our roads
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our bows and arrows
Would secure our future
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless heroes
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless robbers
Robbers with fame
Robbers without shame
Robbers that we would roast with flame
© Adegbenro Adekunle Jacob
Tomorrow’s history is today. All world leaders must make real democracy work. They must be selfless. We must not wait until there is horror and terror before we learn. Nigerian leaders must shun CORRUPTION.
poem by Adegbenro Adekunle
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You know, the way art history is taught, often there's nothing that tells you why the painting is great. The description of a lousy painting and the description of a great painting will very much sound the same.
quote by Chuck Close
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's a World for All
The test of history never rest
A queue of villians give their best.
Coniving, cheating passing threats.
All this for a prize - a world for only one to keep.
If all these ways were ever had.
I fear -
I dreadfully fear what ills there be.
Genocide - an excluded kind.
One supreme tongue.
Greek, Latin even French and German perhaps
But history remains a true defender
.
This world was never made for one.
Cruel intentions must fade
They must learn
It is a world for all
Never a world for one.
poem by Godfrey Morris
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