Clay Creation Masterpiece Man
I am clay creation man
mind divinely inspired
key to all understanding
creativity masterpieces
visions within locked
found reason released
personal masterpieces
directed in self mind
set within inner values
ferment passions strengths
soul committed to visions
gift confident plans chips
away across gulf years
all towering obstacles
observes interdependent
all spiritual motivations
fights for internal visions
talent creates sensations
artistic fame flame grows
assassins lurk back stab
mind figures entombed
released imprisonment
dramatic forces conflict
cast deep are synthesized
innovative connections
draw upon unique lives
knowledge experiences
understand clay physics
interplay of shadow light
form beautified created
physics set in atomic stone
architectural structures
mimic elegance created
in human body systems
gaze deep into anatomy
analogous are structures
link all anatomies buildings
artist if thy be true to self
live code bound integrity
then paint weathered portrait
in flayed skin martyred
in undiluted honesty
passionate in adherence
to beliefs battling obstacles
who to pay is willing
the price of adherence
to steadfast principles
an individualist resolute
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Related quotes
Book Of Visions
Visions, bare th' naked scope of futures life's measure
Stimulates th' rhapsody......wrapped in loves' pleasure
Magazine-like images draw shades of prismed colours
Inspiring th' Mind's-Eye sensories....to draft its covers
Visions, cast a shadow on th' plight of dreams to come
As well as crosses dealt to us fr'm black eastern drums
Out-of Body premonitions.........strike inspired chord's
Aspiring thos' with Faith to crack th' deadlocked doors
Visions, book th' voyage.....to our destinies last chapter
Strange abberation images.......of Life beyond hereafter
Artly smoke-hazed matchstickmen, odd misconception
Channeled from Dreams energies, this ruse perception
Visions, are the bloodline of our Spirits living foresight
Capped in a mortal shell of human God-blessed insight
Stroking on th' threads of heart beats pulse n' rhythm
Casting virtued credence 'pon..........Visions catechism
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.

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Stone
The days have passed, nights are gone,
I'm still in love with a stone,
The seasons changed, the clay too came,
I still hold it with no moan,
The clay comes to me in so many shapes,
Wants me to hold it, whatever it may take,
But clay can hurt me, clay may fake,
Even if it's clay, I have a heart it can break,
The season may change,
The clay may go,
Slowing my heart beat,
All time low,
Stone is hard,
Stone is black,
Stone is emotionless,
Doesn't stab at back,
The clay, the stone, both make me die,
But if a stone does, even the clay may cry...
and I'll never ask why...
It's better to live with a stone,
not clay,
Clay is soft, but it hurts,
which is not the stone's way.....
poem by Apurva Jain

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A Second Sight
the day
daylight
is too dense
many minds
locked into
materialism
materialistic
concerns worries
material purposes
clay imprisonment
body form needs
demands dictates
sun bakes clay
cuneiform clay
tablets into rigid
fixed unbending
thought patterns
furnace hardened
in days progression
entrenched rigid set
the night
nightlight
night perceptions
night vibrations
soul released
aura vibrations
tune solar sail
celestial cosmic
interfacing energy
stellar wind transcribes
into thought flickering
images absorbing higher
dimensions focused
through inner knowing
third eye briefly seeing
written upon dark skies
aflame with star light
crossing stellar distances
carrying plasma light
code sentient deciphered
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Fear Runs
I used to shiver I used to cry as a child
When an ambulance went by
Mother would try to comfort
her son with a smile
Couldn┬┤t help the damage done
I felt betrayed lying awake In the night
When my dad turned out the light
Stories of ghosts would
run through my mind
As I cried So sure they┬┤d lie
under my bed
It takes control of your mind
It leaves all reason behind
The fever comes from within you
Seems to come out of the blue
But there is nothing less true
Fear is something that┬┤s taught you
Fear runs so deep through your veins
drives an easy man insane
In your heart in your mind
visions of the strangest kind
Devastates from within
Feel it itch under your skin
Never knew now you do
It┬┤s always been inside of you
Your darkest hour you
knew would come must be now
You don't know where it comes from
Maybe you┬┤ll sleep maybe you won┬┤t
for toninght The thoughts
you fear are in control
It breaks the spine of your pride
Reveals the memories you hide
The ones you hoped that
would save you
They all remain from the years
When you would fight back your tear
With every warning they gave you
Fear runs so deep through your veins
drives an easy man insane
In your heart in your mind
visions of the strangest kind
Devastates from within
Feel it itch under your skin
Never knew now you do
It┬┤s always been inside of you
song performed by by Shoot High Aim Low from Shoot High Aim Low

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The Carrion Worshippers
Why parade covert
slender human form?
The body the prison
of sleeping soul.
Spirit shackled cast down
choked in dust
is bound entombed
within clay clinging cage.
Fashion locusts host
shadows stunting unnourished flame.
Sparkle gleam vibrantly fade
ghosting pre-dawn light.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Value Fever Pitch: An Artist’s Time
Bhoman F Jamhari said
'I am an artist - This does not
mean I will work for free.
I have bills just like you.
Thank you for understanding.'
Polite and to the problematic point.
Anyone who thinks believes
an artist’s time is worthless,
is definitely a person an artist
should avoid; such individuals
cannot comprehend
or remotely understand
aesthetic value of art.
Art takes time to produce.
Vision and artistic skill takes
even longer to realize to attain
expanding horizons. Time costs.
Artists of differing genre value
appreciate each other and art
which suits their temperament.
To create art
is the life blood
of an artist.
The air we breathe
is the home of art.
Creativity is our fevered mind songs
we sing in a legacy of image visions.
What kind of a con artist wants
to steal bread from an artist’s mouth;
therefore limiting the quality quantity
of future works of art, to be produced
by that artist. Answer an enemy of art.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Turn To Gold
SHINE!
I don't know why
all the fiction of your sleeping
doesn't visit you awake
I don't know how to get your storybook sunrise
to follow you above your cloudy day
all these gifts you left on you
with heaven painted on you
i wish this now with all my soul
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
terrified the world will never turn to look at you
and the sun won't see you shine
she'll resign for rose cooked blush just from your smiling
let the water form a cry
only better luck should greet you
the road should rise to meet you
i wish this now with all i know
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
loose inside your winter
feel the cold wind blowing
cutting through your head and through your ears
feel the fire growing
no more frozen danger
no more wrteched ice storm fear
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
song performed by by Audioslave

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paint Dimensionality Soul In Oils
if I painted pictures
I would draw you in charcoal
wash away drama tears in watercolours
paint dimensionality of durability soul in oils
span a universe of senses touch emotions thoughts
if I painted pictures
I would paint dream images
I would paint visions of inner mind's eye
I would paint life in veils swirling kaleidoscopic moods
I would paint canvasses imprinting fabric expanding universes
but I travel eons far
load canvasses are too heavy
I walk journey through many phase worlds
seasons landscapes in many climates beckon bled feet
I paint mind songs in words life haunting edges spaces
swallow flame words into soul at own risk
I paint distances between seen unseen at world's edges
I paint portraits above beneath mask as multi veils
I paint shift faces figures skin deeds intended done deeds
I paint poetry life in shifting kaleidoscopic images souls
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Shadow of a WallFlower's Plea
Mind and heart
Working together
To cause this headache
Created from a weary mind
Being overburdened
Filled with
More than the mind can take
More than the heart can feel.
Mind and heart
Working together
For the greater good
The good of the greater?
You all look at me
And see just a girl
Just another one
With so many connections
(Not to the right things)
To the obscure
Mindless path.
Just a shadow of
What I used to be
Wallflower
Invisible.
Just a shadow
To you
But to me
The real thing.
I still think
And feel
The same way
As the wallflowers do.
Just now
Set in a different place
New connections you see
Old connections you don't
What I want
Is being blurred.
New connections you see
Old connections you don't
What do I need?
This headache
Burdening my heart.
Heartache
Headache
Heartache? Yes?
What do you know.
What I don't know.
Just please
Attempt to understand
My head hurts
More than my heart can take.
My heart hurts
More than my mind can know.
Attempt to understand
This broken plea
From the shadow
Of the wallflower
I used to be.
poem by Thamer Mager

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Eye sea visions
Eye sea visions
Turning into shadow
Disappearing with the dark nights,
Eye sea visions
Walking in my dreams
Pushing to join realities
Then eye fold my hands and wait.
Eye sea visions
Smiling in the face of the moon,
Smelling like flowers of the Seasons
Whispering a psalmist eulogy
Then, eye close my eyes and anticipate!
Eye sea visions
And eye feel irritated, as eye begin
To lament deceptions,
Intuition envelops me… as
Eye wonder the genuineness of this
Visions eye see.
©1997
poem by Akachukwu Chukwuemeka

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Life And Death
I came into this world
A screaming infant
Forced entry into this life
As I grow the pain sustains
Deep inside my soul
Visions come and visions go
But hate will never leave me
As I grow the pain sustains
Deep inside my soul
Visions come and visions go
But hate will never leave me
Life and death never again
I shall not return
Soul sucking pious man
I shall not return
The reflection
song performed by by Iced Earth

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pity Poor Michelangelo Mind
pity poor Michelangelo mind
always envisions more projects
than is humanly possible to complete
chasing down mere seconds
in race to complete masterpieces
visions before time lost evaporates
no time to share your mind spaces
no time to share breath breathe slow times
immortality has available no rest tops
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Said Before To Say It Again
On my mind are these times.
And I do find these times on my mind,
Hard to define.
With a keeping of those,
Feeling these times have them boxed in.
And on my mind,
There is a reason to seek rhythm and rhyme.
With my visions set,
On what it would take...
To increase my happiness.
I've said this before to say it again.
I'm not looking for stoppers,
To block as obstacles to hop over.
Or the welcoming arms of acceptance.
With a hope that they will open,
The gates to a fence to feel I've been approved.
On my mind are these times.
And I do find these times on my mind,
Hard to define.
With a keeping of those,
Feeling these times have them boxed in.
Acceptance or not,
I'm not looking to get out of a box.
Too many have found themselves there,
To argue over space,
With little of it that to share.
I've said this before to say it again.
Those feeling trapped,
Like it exactly like that.
Fresh is the air,
One dares to breathe alone.
Revitalized is an atmosphere,
When the clearing of a sky,
Becomes recognized to the one who looks...
To discover the vastness of it to become known.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Responsible Intelligence
Intelligence, energy fields filling space
with filigree fingers of lace, interconnected
energy fields form all units of time and space
Mind forms the cosmos and beyond
part of a universal intelligence,
mind changes natural law
As spiritual beings having
a human experience, we
have created it all
Quantum physics describes
far-off action without discernible
cause, consciousness determines
outcome, belief setting direction
Shine a light through a split while
visualising light as a wave, see
smaller waves appear on the
other side, visualise light as
a particle stream and
triangular particle
patterns appear
- So explain to me, how can you
still claim today - you are not
responsible for the events of
yesterday?
poem by Margaret Alice Second

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Blessings Of Prophets Intended Rejected
Dream visions
receding not birthed into life
within this wall.
Dream visions
images messages blessings miracles
not realized in this world.
Dream visions
God’s blessings upon people all nations
sin cursed not confirmed.
Dream visions
from source to mind to scribe to word
world indifferent withheld denied denial.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Tolerance, openness and understanding towards other peoples' cultures, social structures, values and faiths are now essential to the very survival of an interdependent world.
quote by Aga Khan IV

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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After Creation
On the Seventh Day
God Rested.
Refreshed throughout morning.
In invigorating coolness
of reverberating long afternoon.
Even as enticing serpent
was about coveted work.
Within a garden of paradise.
Fallen from paradise Eden.
Adam Eve suffer eviction notice.
An angel guards workshop gates
with naked drawn sword.
Eventually Creative Word Spoke.
A probing question.
‘Whom have thy
now on earth
to speak for thee? ’
Inquiry radiated forth
like cosmic solar winds
throughout newly created galaxy.
Jehovah issued
formative spoken word.
Motivating spirit
moved out upon
vibrant waters across
shaped terra firma.
Creating an invocation
within a single alluring
mud clay sculpture.
When Adam beheld this man.
God decreed in clear voice
proclaimed; “Thy servant’s
name shall be True Artist.”
“Pure in heart in midst
of corruption. With faith
thou shalt work revelation.
Love thy God with thy whole
heart thy whole mind thy whole soul.
To depths of thy inspired being.
And I shall address man’s souls
through works of my thy hand.”
Life breathed into a living soul.
Free to think explore past
boundary’s of prior creation.
A towering giant of the mind,
intellect, body incorporate spirit.
With brain will inner power.
To fashion shape a raw world.
Strength, courage, wisdom, faith.
To move heart mind conscience
within fallen flesh cursing his kind.
“This at last is man. Created first
in our own image; seeking redemption.”
Tasked to transcribe meaning
define beauty’s glory.
Comfort refugees in flight.
To offset corruption with fresh
wonder of realization.
While in pursuit of vision
to visualize dreams
in state of wakefulness.
Ferment unfocused eyes
corrupted hollow corpse.
To wake with rebirth
to luminous divine world.
Contrast gross debased ugliness.
Beauty of pure human body.
Sheathing an immortal soul.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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An Uncommon Reality
I never lived in your world.
I never knew what it was like.
I have no real conception, of what normality is?
I never had to take drugs to escape.
I already lived in a world of my own.
I never aimed for or earnestly sort the high life.
I lived an artistic life, of the mind of the soul,
forever separating my life, from the common life.
From the common man and the common clay.
Everything was so sharp and clearly in focus.
Everywhere I saw and heard and knew too much.
I lived upon a heightened vibration rate
an awareness; as incredibly focused intensity.
I lived with such dynamic, personal passion,
I did not know; what it was like; to be passionless.
I knew that some people lived husks of life
but I; did not fully know; what it was to be a husk.
I always had somewhere beneath adversity
which afflicted me; the redemption; of artistic insight.
I guess this explains why husks gather,
so many possessions, to prop up their lives.
Husks are so empty, they often get blown away,
by the soulless wind, generating materialistic values.
I bequeath
a sacred gift
to enhance
enrich such lives.
Come live within
spirit of creativity
one spirit almighty
our divine creator.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Clay Upon The Wheel
The poet, like the potter,
takes the raw clay of thoughts
and shapes them
through the mind of his loving you.
The beauty of these fragments
without having to expend the energy
to try to express
the image envisioned.
Through the medium
of paper or clay
for personal solitaire,
or the benevolence of other eyes.
Each colour and weave
their thoughts in different patterns
seeing different visions
momentarily lost in their multiple meanings.
At the outset is vision
our struggles to seize or translate it
sully the brightness
in giving it flesh, the vision is muddied, lost.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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I'm Only Human
When we make mistakes and exclaim, 'I'm only human',
what are we trying to say?
What are we apologising for?
As humans, are we only just above the lowest form of animal,
on this planet.
Where's our intelligence, our pride, our self respect.
Why can't we see ourselves as perfect structures,
created by an inspired architect.
We should stand tall, be proud of what we are,
acknowledge our worth.
Why is it that when we falter, lose confidence,
become unsure,
we can't help saying, 'I'm only human'.
It's a sad realisation to arrive at,
don't you think?
But then again, 'we are only human'!
poem by Ernestine Northover

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