Unpainted Painting
Unpainted Painting.
I found a painting on the dump by the road, heads of many colours
seeking shelter, under a colourful umbrella, against coming storm.
It is an original painting signed and dated 2052, who threw it away?
A black fly walks across the computer screen, when I shush it away
it only indolently moves and settles on the edge of the virtual page.
I look for a newspaper to swat it the devious fly reads my thought,
take lift and disappear Into the painting. Now I can read the name:
FEMA. I got, it the date, the work is not yet made by an artist not yet
born; I’m seeing into a future and if the sad faces are anything to go
by, it doesn’t look too promising. Before the darkness swirled into
the village I put the picture back on the dump, as it wasn’t painted
yet and not for me to see. The black fly was buzzing around my head
whispering words in a in a future language I shall never comprehend
In the morning dustmen came and took away the trash.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Painting The Walls
painting the walls,
rolling over handprints,
cobwebs, and smoke stains....
over splashes of color,
over peels of time.
painting over the sounds
of voices whispering, laughing....
painting over tears hidden
from the world, from each other.
painting over running, and working,
working all day and half the night.
painting over children, and dreams,
folded like old clothes, and put away.
painting over notes from God,
that were often barely noticed...
painting over the nail that held
up the clock, hands moving slowly,
turning the seasons of living....
painting over the final words,
the last breath held in the hands,
of lives written in the grain....
the testimony of each feeling....
painting the walls,
and brushing the corners,
as if we never lived!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
But when I worked on a painting I would do it from a drawing but I would put certain things I was fairly sure I wanted in the painting, and then collage on the painting with printed dots or painted paper or something before I really committed it.
quote by Roy Lichtenstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
You're My Evergreen
The words we say, old flowers fade away
Remember yesterday, wish it would bloom again
Apathy and pain, here comes the autumn rain
Old apologies scattered in the wings of fate
Cause today it all looks black and white, wish it would change
We can't keep painting colours when its
Don't hesitate, cause you will bleed
A thousand tears won't wash it clean
Don't hesitate cause you can free yourself
Evergreen, evergreen
Down on my knees, crawling though the streets again
Surrendered to my needs, so i can breathe the air
You're my evergreen, regents park in spring
It takes me to a place, where i can dream again
Cause today it all looks black and white, wish it would change
We can't keep painting colours when it rains
I just want some place where i can breathe without this bitter taste
Cause today it all looks black and white, wish it would change
We can't keep painting colours when it's grey
It all looks black and white today
You're my evergreen, regents park in spring
It takes me to a place, where i can dream again
Cause today it all looks black and white, wish it would change
We can't keep painting colours when it rains
Evergreen, evergreen, evergreen
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Painting Primary Method Bypass
wet-on-wet
practice
has become
well-known
primary method
of painting used
by rapid
fire artists
lighter colours
will usually
mix
with darker
colours
if laid
over top
while wet
applied
simple
technique
relies
on painting
from light
colours up
achieving
bestowing
painting
a soft
look
order
allows
colours
to be
blended
to artistic
vision
painter's
desire
no drying
period
required
full
paintings
requiring
maximum
only
a few
minutes
of detail
touch ups
post main
work dry
produced
in short
flame
time
periods
an entire
landscape
in under
half
an hour
burning
hail
massive
next
innovation
digital artwork
caricatures
portraits rocks
holy grail
speed
painting
computer
instant generating
music booming
by Nico
Di Mattia
is heart
kettle drum
storm playing
soul inflaming
imagination
run riot pot roast
heaven dancing
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When I'm painting the picture, I'm really painting a picture. I may have a flat-footed technique, or something like that, but still, to me, the thrill, or the meat of the thing, is the actual painting. I don't get any thrill out of laying it out.
quote by Frank Stella
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
When is a Painting Finished?
I paint.
On my easel
pictures in oil and acrylic grow
like stalagmites in limestone caves.
I think that painting is a magical act
that transforms invisible thoughts
and feelings into visible colors
and forms.
But I never can tell
when is the work finished.
After all it is always possible
to change a line, a hue, or a color
or even the whole composition.
Painters have different opinions
about this.
Some say that when the artist
successfully planted
all the details onto the canvas
the image expresses itself
as a severed autonomous entity,
which frees the painter from
the task of continuing to paint.
From then on the painting gains
an independent inner life of its own.
However, abandoning a work of art
involves a moral decision
ripened by the stiffening tension
between skill, creativity and integrity.
At what point does the polished image
meet the artist’s expectations?
And then, even if it does,
no single image can express
all that an artist wants to show,
and consequently his muses
compel him to carry on with his work
and create more paintings.
Hence the oeuvre of the artist
evolves as a set of different images
of the same single thrust and grind.
Many years ago I was wandering
through the countryside
of southern France in Provence.
Once I stopped to look at the road
where the village met the meadow.
A sturdy artist stood there
in front of his easel
painting the landscape
with skilful brushstrokes
on a well-stretched canvas.
I stared for a while
at the burgeoning picture
and then asked him:
“How do you know
when is the composition complete? ”
He gave me a piercing glance.
“Well”, he said,
“if you take a hammer
and hit me on the head
I know that the painting is finished.”
poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Modesty is high in view.
A painting free of cost;
A painting with a tag;
A painting not for sale;
The third soars high in view.
24.10.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I needed an outlet in high school and came across painting. I've actually been painting longer than I've been acting. A movie is a collaborative effort, and with painting you just have yourself.
quote by James Franco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
If I Were A Painting
If I were a painting
Captured on canvas
Alone in the portriat I would stand
And brush strokes bold
Yet soft as a whisper
The work of a feminine hand.
Caught in a still life
Surrounded by shadows
And lost in a background of blue
If I were a painting
My price would be pain
And the artist would have to be you.
I imagine the colors
Would all run together
If you ever allowed me to cry
So don't paint the tears
Just let me remember me
Without you in my eyes.
It's only the frame
That holds me together
Or else I would be falling apart
If I were a painting
I wouldn't feel
And you wouldnt be breaking my heart...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Key West 2004
Year was 2004
went to Key West,
not a bore like before.
I posed next to a gold man,
with cool planet painting in hand.
Then posed with a parrot,
while owner holds a carrot.
Went to strip club up the stairs,
all the soldiers where there who stared.
Went to restaurant wearing a pink hat
next to an artist at bar is where I sat.
Artist painted me in my pink hat,
really quick and really fast.
Took photos with him and my friend,
still have painting, needs no stand.
Then went to beach to get a tan,
It was warm I layed on sand.
Then I ate at pancake place,
It was fun, I ate and ate.
Have to go back at later date,
I hear Fantasy Fest is great.
(August 30, 2011)
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Song
I wrote a song
It's called 'my life'
I tried my best to make it a good one
I'd never written a song
Twas indeed my first
I had an eraser
I couldn't clean my mistakes though
It turned out to be a long song
A hundred and twenty pages worth
A page a year
I made a mess of it
Blue pen made a mark
As depression took a quarter of it
Yellow pen made an entrance
I decided it was better than blue
Red pen tried to hurt me
As all anger was kept inside
Green pen whispered a note
I wished I had my neighbour's song
So many colours on just one song
Twenty-five pages were dark
I knew not which way to go
I tried to turn a page but couldn't
I basked in pages gone
Hence left several pages blank
Twenty-five pages were wet
As tears serenaded my heart, it did the pages
Too much pain in one song
Tried to change the words
The things I thought all made the song
On a scale of good to bad, bad stole the day
I searched and found other songs titled 'my life'
I wrote my song the way they had
My song was like a painting
One in utter disharmony
One drawn by a clueless artist
But an artist whose passion burned his painting
I set my heart on fire on page 35
There had to be more
And more I had
On page 120, my eyes were dim and hands tired
Since pages couldn't be turned
My mind sat, and looked back
What had I done?
I'd been mountain high
I'd been valley low
I'd been good
I'd been bad
I'd been....
I lay my head on my song
Took my last breath
But before I did
I held a girl
Who had a song called 'my life'
She read my song
And shed a tear
And said I had written....a masterpiece.
poem by Jenim Dibie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beyond the Art
Dad only had a month to live.
I peeked in to tell them goodnight.
Mom was painting. She stopped to give
Me a kiss. 'Your Dad will be all right.'
Next morning, both my folks were gone.
Perhaps they went out for some air.
Mom's new painting was sitting on
Its easel. Mom's class touch was there.
Mom's grace, Dad's strength - what a combo,
For forty years, husband and wife.
I touched the canvas. Where'd they go?
And then the painting came to life.
A couple walked along the sea.
Mom and Dad smiled and waved to me.
untitled abstract painting of Custer's Last Stand
Untitled abstract painting of Custer’s last stand
an abstract painting of custer’s last stand
Hangs in the Montana Museum of Modern Art
A fish with a halo and many Indians mating
And no name tag makes this painting, stand apart
Montanans know the title of this portrait
Although no name tag is shown
Yet, as the gaze falls upon it
the title is intuitively known,
the last words that were spoken
from this famous man’s mouth
As the battle of the Big horn
Began to go south
Oddly enough, as in the painting
his last words were not prayer
Though the words; “copulation and Indians, “
“Fish And Holy, “ were there.
The title of the painting and Custer’s last words
Weren’t from Romans or Corinthians.
They were simply “Holy Mackerel
Look at all the F#@*in’ Indians
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Key West 2004
Year was 2004
went to Key West,
not a bore like before.
I posed next to a gold man,
with cool planet painting in hand.
Then posed with a parrot,
while owner holds a carrot.
Went to strip club up the stairs,
all the soldiers where there who stared.
Went to restaurant wearing a pink hat
next to an artist at bar is where I sat.
Artist painted me in my pink hat,
really quick and really fast.
Took photos with him and my friend,
still have painting, needs no stand.
Then went to beach to get a tan,
It was warm I layed on sand.
Then I ate at pancake place,
It was fun, I ate and ate.
Have to go back at later date,
I hear Fantasy Fest is great.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 30,2011)
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Why Is Repin Painting Monet?
why is repin
painting monet
why is not repin
painting repin
or why is not monet
painting monet
or they're just
making a team
in this day
very sunny day
in the south
south of beauty
oh beauty
beauty named france
france of that field
the sunflower field
oh making
making for a painting
a painting for price
a price for bread
bread for respect
respect for van gogh
van gogh for a day
a day for painting
painting for words
words for us
and us for them
and them are only
only and just
just se7en words
'we all are brothers
brothers
in love'
poem by Ahmed Khaled
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When I am finishing a picture, I hold some God-made object up to it - a rock, a flower, the branch of a tree or my hand - as a final test. If the painting stands up beside a thing man cannot make, the painting is authentic. If there's a clash between the two, it's bad art.
quote by Marc Chagall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
When I am finishing a picture, I hold some God-made object up to it a rock, a flower, the branch of a tree or my hand as a final test. If the painting stands up beside a thing man cannot make, the painting is authentic. If theres a clash between the two, its bad art.
quote by Marc Chagall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Her Portrait
Im painting another portrait. Look at her just look at her. Shes what you made. How do you justify it. Well let me be her angel of darkness. Let me take away all her pain and absorb it into me. I'm a sinner and saint. Im the equilibrium that holds every thing together. I watched many suffer. That when they are the strongest they are ever gonna be. I'm painting another portrait. Look at her just look at her. Shes everything you are not. Are you feeling jealous of what shes got. The ability to heal. The ability shield those under her. Let me be her angel of darkness. Let me take away all her pain and absorb it into me. Let me make her sane. Children are lost as love fades. Revenge leaves so many scars. Families torn apart for justification. Just make it okay. Just make it okay and make it go away. I'm painting another portrait. Just look at her. Just look at her. Such pretty eyes in which evil hides. Pictures of slaughter. It was her three year old daughter. Let me be her angel of darkness.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A painting is finished when the subject comes back, when what has caused the painting to be made comes back as an object.
quote by Howard Hodgkin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
After tea it's back to painting - a large poplar at dusk with a gathering storm. From time to time instead of this evening painting session I go bowling in one of the neighbouring villages, but not very often.
quote by Gustav Klimt
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!