Related quotes: Michelangelo carved poetry into purest...

Art Encompassed

Michelangelo carved poetry
into purest marble
painted it across ceiling
of adorned Sistine Chapel.

Leonardo Da Vinci
cunningly imprisoned it
within magnetic eyes
of portrait Mona Lisa.

Vincent Van Gogh ground pigment
mixed fresco artistic paint
then splashed poetry upon heaven’s
eternal Starry Starry Night.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Art Encompassed Interactive Across Centuries

Michelangelo carved poetry
into purest marble
painted it across ceiling
of adorned Sistine Chapel.
Leonardo Da Vinci
cunningly imprisoned it
within magnetic eyes
of portrait Mona Lisa.
Vincent Van Gogh ground pigment
mixed artistic paint tempera
then splashed poetry upon heaven’s
eternal Starry Starry Night.

Complete artist crazed benediction perfected
must encompassed be prophetic impassioned poet.
Diverse streams personify divine creativity
poetry effected obtains full unfettered expression.
An illuminated ardent ephemeral soul chisels
holy canvas tormented stupendous ablazed passions.

To understand portray pour visionary dynamic words
upon oily water’s perpetual colourless beggary.
Art transforms lack-lustre drab insipid normality
into a cathedral exemplifying expanding universe.
Heartbreak into heartfelt refined tempera translations
easels in search of sensational esoteric staccato pictures.

Transcribed life a miraculous varicoloured sunrise,
dashed hopes a storm ruined resonant corn-field patina frost.
Boundary line earthquake lacerated filigree fragments.
Blood pulsating interprets convulsive emotive rainbow.

Masterpieces dedicated to intense artists. Who have known
great suffering, endured true hardship, innermost anguish.
Yet never exploited, sold, sacred noble entrusted birthright.
Potentialities imaginative beauty enlightening an innocent soul.

Art encompassed interactive
across centuries hung upon
beating hearts pumping forth
liquid fire of creative energies.

Is an art principled with agony
passions etched into canvas of
pulsating vibrations brushstrokes
of demented inspirations applied.

An art blazing interactive emotions
fusion mind eye merge erupting inter
-dimensional thermonuclear firing
of neurons in vortex electrified brain

cells atomized star bursts equates to
echo of cosmic rapture personified.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Art Encompassed: Renaissance Modern Rejecting Earlier Ideals

Michelangelo carved poetry
into purest marble
painted it across ceiling
of adorned Sistine Chapel.

Leonardo Da Vinci
cunningly imprisoned it
within magnetic eyes
of portrait Mona Lisa.

Vincent Van Gogh ground pigment
mixed artistic paint tempera
then splashed poetry upon heaven’s
eternal Starry Starry Night.

Artistic expression must
embody spirit of the age
embryo emerging art styles
conflicted emotions society

in catalytic transformation
rendered in boiling conflict
brain cells assaulted blasted
fired into new fried pathways

genius is new vision expression
metaphor cast forth in bold strokes
capturing whirling images present
flashing upon retina inner eye perceives

kaleidoscopic elements shift red line
into endless variant emerging patterns
constantly shifting turning upon genius
perception mesmerized by variant vision

chemistry physics transmutes energized atoms
blazing into quantum physics string theories
event horizons express new window dimensions
follow visionary artists into new perceptions

forgers follow lapping spinning crumbs left vibrant
copy works revolutionary mind inscribed defined
producing copies exquisite canvas shaped echoes
cementing unglazed supernova as mass commonality

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lust for Perfection! ! ! ! ! !

Enraptured by the mystic starry sky
Vincent so desperately wanted to try,
To paint this enchanting twilight scene,
But how, Colours in that light couldn’t be seen.

He longed to paint on the spot at night,
What he saw, as he saw without artificial light.
‘Night is more richly coloured than day
Putting little white dots on a black surface, no way'

Struck by brilliance of stars on closer attention
And his zest and lust and passion for perfection,
A legend goes in rural areas of south of France,
He put candles in the felt hat to capture and paint.

Thus the locals gave him a name, illumine
French word meaning lit up and delusive.
Couldn’t care less, night to be painted on the spot
Settled for a gas jet after pondering a lot

The painting depicts a religious motif of youth.
To assuage his thirst for the Absolute
‘I just paint nature as it seems to me, complete
All we have to do is unravel the mystery…’

A tribute to Vincent Van Gogh, Impressionist painter, best known for Sun Flowers.
Starry Night is a fascinating work, as is his passion.

poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Starry Night

That does not keep me from having a terrible need of — shall I say the word — religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars. — Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brother

The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry night! This is how
I want to die.

It moves. They are all alive.
Even the moon bulges in its orange irons
to push children, like a god, from its eye.
The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die:

into that rushing beast of the night,
sucked up by that great dragon, to split
from my life with no flag,
no belly,
no cry.

poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

Vincent

starry starry night
paint your palette blue and gray
look out on a summer's day
with eyes that know the darkness in my soul
shadows on the hill
sketch the trees and daffodils
catch the breeze and the winter chills
in colors on the snowy linen land
now i understand
what you tried to say to me
and how you suffered you sanity
and how you tried to set them free
they would not listen they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now
starry starry night
flaming flowers that brightly blaze
swirling clouds in violet haze
reflect in vincent's eyes of china blue
colors changing hue
morning fields of amber grain
weathered faces lined in pain
are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
now i understand
what you tried to say to me
they did not listen they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now
starry starry night

song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vincent

Starry, starry night:
Paint your palette blue and gray.
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills.
Sketch the trees and the daffodils;
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now i understand
What you tried to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen; they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night:
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze;
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue:
Morning fields of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now i understand
What you tried to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen; they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you
But still, your love was true.
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do.
But i could've told you, vincent:
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night:
Portraits hung in empty halls:
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget;
Like the strangers that you've met:
The ragged men in ragged clothes.
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now i think i know
What you tried to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen; they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will.

song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vincent

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summers day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul...
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand
What you tried to say, to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free:
They would not listen; they did not know how --
Perhaps theyll listen now.
Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and cant forget
Like the strangers that youve met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know
What you tried to say, to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free:
They would not listen; theyre not listening still --
Perhaps they never will.
For they could not love you
But still, your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do --
But I couldve told you, vincent:
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you.

song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vincent (Starry Starry Night)

Vincent
Words/music: don mclean
Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summers day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps theyll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in vincents eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artists loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps theyll listen now.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and cant forget.
Like the strangers that youve met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, theyre not listening still.
Perhaps they never will.

song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

An act of poetry

Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry

A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art

Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation

Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:

The pen be our salvation.

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Starry, Starry Skies

Starry, starry skies
that fill my searching eyes
so distant and so far from me
and yet I feel so close to thee.

Each one that twinkles in the night
brings to me sweet heaven's light.
Oh that I could travel far
and finally touch one shiny star

But I can only stop and stare
and wonder how and why and where.
Wondering, never knowing
how it is you're always glowing
My
Starry, starry skies.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dont Write Poetry!

i dont write poetry...
i sweat poetry, i drink poetry,
i breathe poetry, i make love to poetry,
i fight poetry, i eat poetry,
i bleed poetry, i crap poetry...
too often i betray poetry,
sometimes i dropp poetry.
once i tripped over poetry,
got angry and kicked poetry.
i rocked poetry on a sleepless night,
i buried poetry on the hill...
i lived poetry, for i am poetry...

no, i dont write poetry,
but poetry writes me!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is

Poetry is when she wakes up with a smile on her angel face and says thank you for watching over my breathe all night, its when I hold her and she says I miss missing you even when I’m right there next to her.

Her EYES are the mother of poetry, one of a kind, her SMILE is the goddess of poetry, rare and beautiful, her VOICE is the heaven of poetry, so sweet and gentle.

When she loves me she does so with all the poetry she has inside her, , , everything about her is poetry, her poetry speaks to me without saying anything, it touches me without holding me, it makes me feel even without her near me
SHE IS POETRY IN MY SOUL, IN MY MIND, IN MY HEART.

poem by Tendai Maturure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Van Gogh Ceilings

The colors of our nights
flow in different hues

blood reds on the satin sheets

deep dark blues of gentle breathing

candle light soothing;

the smells of body scents
and perfume;

August's most heated nights
the sweep of enfolding arms

the over head fan twirls
over gentle writhings

healing tremblings

as we two
spin away into
Perfection's Consumated Dream

where breathless love mates
with sensual overwhelmng
sighs seductive breathings
making it oh so clear

why
we humans were placed here

to make love and children
in the colors of our night

hot pinks
ravishing reds
and deep blues.

I look into your eyes
reflecting back to me
the nights perfection

come real
and if never again

to be seen

this time alone would be enough

to paint Van Gogh
colors and stars

on our bed room ceiling
forever

on this

Starry Starry Night

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Van Gogh Nights

The colors of our nights
flow in different hues

blood reds on the satin sheets

deep dark blues of gentle breathing

candle light soothing;

the smells of body scents
and perfume;

August's most heated nights
the sweep of enfolding arms

the over head fan twirls
over gentle writhings

healing tremblings

as we two
spin away into
Perfection's Consumated Dream

where breathless love mates
with sensual overwhelmng
sighs seductive breathings
making it oh so clear

why
we humans were placed here

to make love and children
in the colors of our night

hot pinks
ravishing reds
and deep blues.

I look into your eyes
reflecting back to me
the nights perfection

come real
and if never again

to be seen

this time alone would be enough

to paint Van Gogh
colors and stars

on our bed room ceiling
forever

on this

Starry Starry Night

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Valentine 2009

If I could paint a masterpiece
In portrait show my lady’s grace
As da Vinci in his finest hour
Attained in Mona Lisa’s face

If I could write a sonnet grand
In poem show my lady’s soul
That to the eyes of all who read
Rapturous tears would freely flow

If I could achieve these shining feats
Though great, sufficient would not be
To reveal the love that’s in my heart
Or impart my lady’s worth to me

I love you Babe

poem by C.R. Clark
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Michelangelo’s
Brush a magic camera
Sistine Chapel’s proof

haiku by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.

Poetry...Poetry...

poem by Akash Agrawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry On The Chin

You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.

You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.

You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.

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poetry

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is All In One!

Passion for poetry is insatiable!
Poetry gives pleasure nothing can!
Poetry is many subjects under one roof!
Poetry never bores to write and read ever!
Poetry is a compression of many ideas in a nut shell!
Poetry displays power of pen to capture men ever!
Poetry captures as photo castles built in air!
Poetry is spontaneous over flow of ides!
Poetry flows free if extemporary!
Poetry is prolific words sure!
Poetry is a thing of joy!
Poetry is beauty!
Poetry is witty!
Poetry cheers!

poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The beauty of poetry

I am a woman painted by poetry
the picture captured between night and day
between a dropp and dropp of rain
a blow and blow of wind
a beam and beam of sun
the paint created by imagination of poetry
I use wind for seducing you
I use rain for wetting you
I use sunshine for warming your heart
I am poetry the woman like wind rain and sun
the picture captured between unreality and dream
I am fantasy I don't exist in this world
my home is the beauty of poetry
I am the beauty of poetry
the night wove for me the dress of moonlight
the flowers made for me the crown
happiness and sadness make up my face
my eyes glitter by tears
my lips gloss by smile
my heart lights the candles for strangers
who come to warm their hearts
by the beauty of poetry

poem by Ata Augustyn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Art Encompassed

Related quotes

Art Encompassed Interactive Across Centuries

Art Encompassed: Renaissance Modern Rejecting Earlier Ideals

Lust for Perfection! ! ! ! ! !

The Starry Night

Vincent

Vincent

Vincent

Vincent (Starry Starry Night)

An act of poetry

Starry, Starry Skies

I Dont Write Poetry!

Poetry Is

Van Gogh Ceilings

Van Gogh Nights

Valentine 2009

Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry On The Chin

Poetry Is All In One!

The beauty of poetry

En.Citatepedia^®.ro