Art Achieved Spins
art time
art elastic time
stretches
into art objects
concrete
wet paint
touchable images
constructed realities
art achieved spins
stretches libraries
fills glass museums
wow collector walls
art lives in cells
electrified brains
speaks primal instincts
mourns clipped wings
cut veins
bleed art lives
blood vanish mixes
weep red violins
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Art Lives Mourns
art lives in cells
electrified brains
speaks primal instincts
mourns clipped wings
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Art Fills
art achieved spins
stretches libraries
fills glass museums
wow collector walls
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Art Lives Weeps
cut veins
bleed art lives
blood vanish mixes
weep red violins
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Art Elastic Time Stretches
art time
art elastic time
stretches
into art objects
art achieved
stretches stayed
into life poverty
or life prosperity?
still life time
distilled thoughts
writing time
web skill lifetimes
mind eye painting
heart hand drawing
soul clay beating sculptures
fine arts ability embellishes
art achieved stasis
stretches framed plays
into frozen life poverty
or sales life prosperity?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Finger Tip Touchable
concrete
wet paint
touchable images
constructed realities
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Art Objects
art time
art elastic time
stretches
into art objects
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life or something like it
A flower stretches toward the sun.
alone. unoticed such a pitiful sight
she will not give-up, no not this one
as darkness decends upon the land
a flower stretches toward the sun
alone in the shadows, there she will stand
and sit, and wait for coming of the sun
spring is over, summer is soon done
around the corner comes Winters icy blast
a flower stretches toward the sun
in the cold the lonely flower dies, at last
with a push and with some screams
somewhere a new life has just begun
a life full of hopes and of dreams
and a flower stretches toward the sun
JPM 2/8/2008
I continue to experiment with more formal types of poems this is my attempt at a Quatern
When Tree Branches Rub Against The Roof
When tree branches rub against the roof
the small bulbul runs past
during the afternoon hour
to the pool where it dives and rolls,
stretches out wings and shoot them out straight,
walking boldly up and down
stretches out wings,
stretches out wings
as he walks to and thro.
When tree branches rub against the roof
a light breeze blows,
while the sun burns hot as fire
and the neighbouring child calls
when the afternoon comes with its peace,
with thoughts from the past
when the afternoon comes,
when the afternoon comes
and sometimes I forget the present.
When tree branches rub against the roof
birds peck around everywhere
while moments are lingering
as leaves blow to the ground,
and I think of God as if He is here,
while the shades bring a kind of tranquillity
and I think of God
and I think of God
and find some deeper meaning to life.
poem by Gert Strydom
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There are already/ Too many dead
THERE ARE ALREADY/ TOO MANY DEAD
There are already
Too many dead-
Too many people to miss-
I can’t stand the thought
That there will be more
But there will be more.
An old man lives-
But his world dies.
However long
He stretches his time out
The pains of more losses,
Will accompany him.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Green Starling
When you look at the green starling
it screams in the long grass,
gleams green in the morning dew
and catches your eye
as it comes out of a hole, out of a tree,
as it picks up insects at a small stream
as it comes out,
as it comes out
as if caught in your daydream.
When you look at the green starling
it sparkles here and there
as if it sometimes is holding onto rays
and it warbles
stretches out under the sun,
view it as a red balloon
stretches out
stretches out
and it would fly away if it could.
When you look at the green starling
it pecks at a sorrel
when at times it holds onto a big worm
before it sings a song of joy
flies up fluttering, spreading its wings
and for moments distract you,
flies up fluttering
flies up fluttering
and so a whole mornings swishes past.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Thrill Is Back
The thrill is back
Well Im ready to raise the blinds in this place
Think Ill rejoin the human race
You said yes, now youre wearing my ring
Guess I can stop playinolb.b. king
Chorus:
cause the thrill is back, the heartaches gone
Time stands still, baby love lives on
The room spins around, when youre kissinme
The thrill is back like it used to be
I sure could use a haircut and shave
Now that Im crawling outta my cave
Since you said we were through
Ive been down with a case of the blues
Chorus:
But the thrill is back, the heartaches gone
Time stands still, baby love lives on
The room spins around, when youre kissinme
The thrill is back like it used to be
Bridge:
I think Id better give my doctor a call
And tell him I wont need that prozac after all
Chorus:
cause the thrill is back, the heartaches gone
Time stands still, baby love lives on
The room spins around, when youre kissinme
The thrill is back like it used to be
Chorus:
Yeah the thrill is back, the heartaches gone
Time stands still, baby love lives on
The room spins around, when youre kissinme
The thrill is back like it used to be
Tag:
The room spins around, when youre kissinme
The thrill is back like it used to be
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Born In A Stable
In a far off time
and a land far away
a baby was born.
Everyone one knows his name
and the miracles he performed,
His touch stretches
across the eons of time
and his work lives on
in the hearts of men.
Born in a stable,
crucified on a cross,
proclaimed a king
whose kingdom is heaven
a place where all want to go.
Christmas is his birthday
we remember it still
and celebrate
the birth of the son of God,
Jesus Christ.
poem by David Harris
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The Touchables
Speaking of which, what is your choice
Your conversation will suffice
I feel the need thats known to all
Better use it up before the levels fall
You can take me back to the primal drive
You can carry on until we arrive
Hypnotised inside
Now Im not young and youre not old
Id rather purchase than be sold
Crazed friends so bold
Its not easy to conceal
When youre so touchable
People will hide indifference
Just to be touchable
They still emit split second screams
When they are touchable
Under the surface just for kicks
Sincerely touchable
You say its okay, but what do I feel
Guilt, compassion, or achilles heel
Little feet march down grey matter hill
Then panic occurs, no seeds to spill
Whats the matter now
Please look up and speak
Your spirits wilting and your flesh is weak
Eight days a week
I cant imagine whatll happen now
I wonder when and I wonder how
The end will come
Its not easy to conceal
When youre so touchable
People will hide indifference
Just to be touchable
Its not easy to conceal
When youre so touchable
People will hide indifference
Just to be touchable
They still emit split second screams
When they are touchable
Under the surface just for kicks
Sincerely touchable
The final answer to all our fears
Abrupt conclusion to all our years
Still touchable but no one hears
They carry on hypnotised inside
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Clock On The Wall
The clock ticks on the wall
The same walls
That saw my family
Grow from childhood
To adulthood
The tick tock of time
Each stroke captures
A time a place
Were we visit back
In memories of old
A birth a death
A wedding of bliss
Each memory reflected
In the glass of a
Clock that sits upon the wall
As time ticks by
We look at our lives
What we have done
Where we have gone
Have we wasted any?
Precious time that
Makes our lives whole
So savor the moment
And make each moment count
poem by Kaila George
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Bleed To Death
The long way to the soul recess
be marked by the fine line of sacrifice!"
I seek by any means
Break the walls of inert
Why doesn't anyone?
Bleed to Death!
If you have the blood
Write your name forever
Set your eyes in flames
And bleed to death
Eternal suffer - run over the veins!
Eternal suffer - to the end!
I search anyway
Break the walls of inert
Why doesn't anyone?
Bleed to Death!
Eternal suffer - run over the veins!
Eternal suffer - to the end!
song performed by by Undercroft
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's As If The Sea Is Confined
It's as if the sea is confined
where it breaks and hits in front of us
and just as unobserved
you keep standing next to me
where the sea stretches into the blue
and in silence we are watching each other
where the sea stretches,
where the sea stretches
and I enclose you in my arms.
It's as if the sea is confined
in this small bay
and outside of it we notice a shark
but no meaning
but our love remains,
just nothing but you and I
but our love,
but our love
makes any kind of sense here.
It's as if the sea is confined
always washes in and out here
and it keeps drawing us nearer,
while we feel great and deep things
it's as if God Himself is among us,
and is watching us with big pity
as if God Himself,
as if God Himself
brings us here to new meaning.
poem by Gert Strydom
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At times the four walls
At times the four walls
seems to fold in on me
and the places between
the dark and the white,
stretches the tolerance
of any soul.
Yet love and peace
and the grace
and realities of life
tries to destroy
and yet I still stand
and the Almighty
holds my hand.
It’s just the way that life is
and there are places to go
and people to meet
and every day
has the ability
to really be great.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Dead Life
She's invisible to the ones that make her that way
A mask is worn over her
Her eyes are a dead black
And no one dares to look into them
Lifeless and Numb, sorrow stretches through her
Yet she still captures air
Red ice pumps through her veins
There's no sympathy for her heart
Lonliness fills her soul
As it is plucked from her
She rests beyond the grave
Where the souls of dead live
poem by Candy Lemons
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Death and survival, and theories....
Those who struggle so hard
in order to live for a number of years more
are admirable
They fight their wars
and Just don't surrender that easily,
Those who want to end their lives
Finding it absurd
Those who hit their heads hard against the wall
and Bleed and die
Upon their own will
I say,
They too are admirable
They have guts.
Death is a state, but the door towards it
is painful. Those who embrace pain, contrary to norms,
must deserve our honor.
Theirs is that dignity to end their lives
at will.
Life is precious they say. It is a gift.
But life has no meaning sometimes.
One simply gets short of more reasons in order to continue the journey of sorrow and grief
and occasional joys of living.
One kicks hard against the storms.
The other stretches his hands to touch the sky.
Others let them be.
Those who are afraid, and non committal,
simply leave their lives in the hands of God.
They too have their own reasons,
They rest their destinies to Fate
or Faith,
And they too, must be admirable
or honorable.
I am this spectator still trying to fathom
the truth about this right or wrong.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Steady Hand-Mary's Font
Steady is the hand
that soothes my brow;
broad are the shoulders
which encompass me.
I'll see close
and I'll see far
and not see more
than my and
your rising need
Steady is the love
which has gathered up
precious memories
which trace their delicate filaments
across my heart quivering
each time
swimming in Love's Eyes;
your touch
upon my eylids
the tracking of your fingertips
first high
then low
opens my doors
and just inside
I await
anticipating.
Long will
my need
embrace
this ravishing
which stretches me
from
gentle care
to deepest seed
exploding
from my deep source within.
soul rising
winging
liberating flow
because each time
there is the sense
this is
and will
always be.
Slow is the hand
in the after glow;
slowed down is the hand on the clock's face;
washing we two
to the other side of satiation
because
slowed down time stretches to eons.
I cross my heart each time
with promises I'll keep
we each
in that still time
paint our souls
in that rainbow afterglow;
each color
manifesting
the I and you
on this bed of roses
you made
this night
of our anniversary
So my sweet
lay me down too
gratefully
because nothing is so beautiful
as Love's Roses
opening wide
in the Giving
and Receiving.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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