Kahlo
She ran the school hand-in-hand with this boy
Creating mischief and mystery hand-in-hand with this boy
Together, fooling and tricking this man who painted his courage
She gleefully watched this man who painted his courage
She came to school each morning with this boy
Just to watch this mysterious painter man
She left school each night, with this boy
With the trickster boy, left the man
She ran into a block she couldn’t ignore
She was damaged beyond healthy repair
Carrying her as she bled, this boy
Saved her from the wreckage
Then left her to write him time and time again
Never once did he look at her letters, or care
She gave up, gave up on this boy
What could she have loved in this boy?
She picked up a brush and was like the man
She painted her pain and courage, like the man
She adored her paints
Admired her brush
Marveled at the creations
Fell in love with the canvas
Some time later, she again met the painter man
She adored the man
Admired the man
Marveled at the man
Fell in love with the man
poem by Allison Pardieck
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Related quotes
A Painter In You!
who has painted your picture in my thoughts,
without a brush, the paints and the pallet,
not even sketched using a pencil and a knife,
the picture is perfect with the colors mixed,
your smiling is great with a thin line at the edges,
your eyes are wide open, sprinkling the cheerful messages,
every time the happy visuals of you pop out in the mind,
I couldn't have drawn such a beautiful portrait,
of you in my heart, who has done this painting?
You are the one who posed and painted on your own,
you are a great painter who can paint your pictures,
on everyone's heart whom you know, love and respect.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Canvas
I painted all my life...
just to be praised by the world.
Till you came - like the heat of the flame,
you stayed with me to hold.
My brush had a little more strength,
when i saw your heavenly smile.
Oh, how i wanted to steal those moments away...
and paint them all for awhile.
My heart had a little more art...
when I saw your gracious curves.
Oh, how i wanted to immortalize your eyes,
that speaks to me like a dove.
But the world still kept his praises away...
till i almost gave it up.
But then you gave me courage
and you always filled me up.
And then the world took you away from me-
till my soul has slowly died.
I stole your memories away...
and painted you by night.
Oh, how your eyes reflect the things
I never saw before.
How I can see my very soul
just by looking there for more.
Oh, how your smiles revived my heart...
but filled my heart with tears;
How perfect they were on my canvas,
how they hideth all my fears.
And then the world gave me the praise
I wanted so before...
He gave to me my past prayers
just after he took you so.
If I could only tell the world
how mean he was to me...
and curse the stars, and curse the moons...
and heavens constantly.
I felt like painting all my life
just to end up painting you.
Giving you life on my canvas...
stealing you from death by my brush.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Bequeathal
THE night-birds cry in the bush outside,
And I write here, though the hour be late;
And what shall I write of the man who died?
'He gave his gold to the poor at his gate!'
The line is written. Was that his all,
And did that all exhaust his love?
'Nay, nay, write on, while the night-birds call:
‘He gave his soul to his God above’!'
Say on; for in so rich a vein
More gold lay waiting to be proved.
' 'T was so! Write this, and write it plain:
‘He gave his heart to the wife he loved’!'
What more? 'What more dost thou require?
What more was left to give or take?
Yet more there was. Write this in fire:
‘He gave his life for his country's sake’!'
'Last gift of all, with courage fine,
Though far from stars that watched his birth.
He fell. Write then this final line:
‘He gave his clay to the aliens' earth’!'
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Coffee Courage
The bitter coffee kicked;
I shook and then I licked
My lips and gave a sigh.
Shattered eyes encouraged,
I nearly had envisaged
Waking up an eye.
Another sip; a jolt –
Not unlike a bolt
Of wattage from the mains.
My sockets under strain,
I tried it once again:
Aha! The light, the searing white –
My God, the bloody pain!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Courage, courage, coffee courage,
Courage, courage, courage,
Courage, courage, coffee courage,
Courage, courage, courage,
Courage, courage, coffee courage,
Courage, courage, courage,
Courage, courage, coffee courage,
Courage, courage, courage,
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Back In The Days
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
I was very loud. [1]
I was very shy. [2]
I had a lot of friends, [1]
I had little friends, [2]
my parents were proud, [1]
my parents lived a lie. [2]
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
prom was coming next week. [1]
prom was soon coming up. [2]
Daddy bought me a dress, [1]
Momma took me to a shop, [2]
So nervous I couldn't breathe. [1]
bought me a black tux. [2]
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
I was the prettiest of them all. [1]
I wasn't noticed well. [2]
There's this boy I barely noticed, [1]
The prettiest girl in school... [2]
is so handsome and so tall. [1]
so pretty and so swell. [2]
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
he reached to hold my hand. [1]
I reached for her hand. [2]
As nervous as he was, [1]
My heart shook; my voice was weak, [2]
he asked me to the dance. [1]
I asked her to the dance. [2]
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
after the prom I got the news. [1]
I'm to go to war next week. [2]
He was drafted in the army, [1]
I wish there was a way, [2]
and to be sent off too soon. [1]
all I could do was pray. [2]
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
I watched him be taken away. [1]
I told her, 'I love you.' [2]
That tall and handsome man, [1]
Tears fell down her cheeks, [2]
is still in my heart to this day. [1]
her hand in marriage; can't take me away. [2]
poem by Heather Cropper
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Death and you and I
I saw her standing over me just before I died,
Death-she gave out such a bright lovely white light
She was beautiful! I understood why all life followed her,
Where had I been not to have met her earlier?
She smiled at me as if saying, “Say your goodbyes”,
My voice had withered but my tears they spoke for me,
Tried to speak they stopped me, I couldn’t if I tried,
I glanced at the faces I loved for the last time.
'I do not believe in love at first sight'-
Words you utter, wait until you see her face,
She was impossible to resist, I promise-you will understand,
My past didn’t matter; I dwelled on her-my future,
I gave up everything I adored-just to hold her,
All this you too will do, once again-I promise,
Life had certainly saved the best for last,
I weant to her, or was it her to me?
Hand in hand to the land none has ever returned.
poem by Isunge Mwangase
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A Soldier's War of Courage
Courage is standing in the middle of a war zone
Not knowing if you’ll be making it back home
Courage is leaving your loved ones behind
Not knowing for sure if you were seeing them for the last time
Courage is holding the weapon in your hand in a do or die place
Not showing the enemy traces of your fear and despair on your face
Courage is able to sleep at night with one eye open and eye closed
Not knowing if tomorrow, you’ll be the next one not coming home
Courage is reading a letter from a loved one holding back the tears
Remaining strong is your mission and survival becomes your darkest fears
Courage is seeing soldiers die right in front of you
While you are aware that your life is at risk for a mission you were born to do
Courage is being a hero in everyone’s eyes
Whether or not you come out alive
There, you will always and forever remain; a Soldier’s War of Courage…
poem by Gail Doyle
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She Gave Her Angels
And now Id like 2 turn your heart 2 a tale of sheer delight
A song of adulation, love and fear
No one loved him better, no one better sacrificed
She gave her angels that summer night
Fate as she designed it took her from her man
Destiny and love dont always go hand in hand (hand in hand)
As the world lay waiting like an embryo in a womb
She gave her angels that night in june (she gave her angels)
She gave her angels 2 a man because her man had none
2 watch over him till she returned - her man, her lover, her son
Her father 4 all these things he meant 2 her, she felt it right
She gave her angels that summer night {x2}
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rosebush
There was a rosebush
With only one rose
And I fell in love
With just that rose
I couldn’t grab it for fear
Of the many thorns
But I had to get it
‘Cause I loved that one rose
So I took a chance
Took a jump
But the rose was too
Far out of my reach
As I sat in the bush
I started to bleed
And I bled and bled
And sat there in pain
Then came a friend
Who held out her hand
She helped me up
And got me through
I tried again and again
Yet she kept helping me
Get out of the rosebush
And then I gave up
I… shouldn’t have
But I gave up on myself
And I told my friend,
“I can’t get the rose.”
For weeks upon weeks
I avoided the rosebush
Until she said to try
One last time
So I did and
Excitedly received
The only rose
That grew upon that bush
I then gave it to the girl
Who stood by my side
Day in and day out
Who told me not to give up.
poem by Chris Pacion
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Poem: 'Self-Abandonment
- 9. May.2006 -
The kids at school were mean to her
They called her nasty names
The kids at school abandoned her
Left her out of all their games
The kids at school hurt her badly
With each word that cruelly spoke
The kids at school were so unloving
As they slowly stole her hope
The kids at school were never kind
They put her through unspeakable hell
The kids at school gave up on her
So she gave up on herself…
poem by Rachel Ann Clark
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You Wanted More
You know the way
You've been before
I've seen the signs
Outside your door
You set the rules
The bitter days
Can't be ignored
It's just the same
Just like before
You wanted more
I love the sun
I love the rain
You gave it up
But all in vain
I love the way
It was before
So bittersweet
To be adored
We had it all
You let it go
You wanted more
But in the end
What is a friend
If not some one
To help pretend
Remember me
You know my name
I'm still the same
But not for you
That's not enough
You wanted more
I love the sun
I love the rain
You gave it up
But all in vain
You couldn't change
You know the score
So bittersweet
To be adored
We had it all
You gave it up
You wanted more
But in the end
What is a friend...
You loved the way
It used to be
The way you are
You and me
You came too late
You left too soon
Just like the rings
Around the moon
We had it all
You let it go
You wanted more
We had it all
You gave it up
You wanted more
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A painter
A painter on study
sketched two nudes
In canvass, a nude
Man & woman
The man in hard
Solid lines his torso
His thighs his legs
Well chiseled by
The dark colors
Of his brush, and
The woman in
Smooth lines, her
Fragile hands, her
Soft breasts, her
Thin lines in light
Feminine colors,
He so admired
His nude creations,
And he stared
At the magic
He just painted,
And tired for
Hours, he just
Blinked a while
Wanting a little
Slip, he faltered,
He blinked and
Winked for a second,
Surprised, only to
Find out that the two
Are suddenly missing
not looking for food
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My First Day At School(***A Real Experience***)
Oh, it came so fast like a speedy train,
in the month of heavy rain,
when the birds of joy just flew away,
and my heartbeat rose up each day.
the vacations were over and,
there was no more time to play in sand,
but of course you know what that was,
it was my school reopening day as it is.
That day morn when I woke up,
thought if i had a ever or hiccup,
lazy and unwilling, of course, of huss,
made it to the waiting bus.
As the speed of bus went high,
i sank back to the seat with a sigh,
at last whe i walked down to school,
i never knew to use what tool.
As my school came closer,
I became more more dozer,
but wait! now that at school i was,
noone knows the tension a girl has.
When i stepped in to my class,
My courage broke like a breaking glass,
but when i found out i wasn't alone,
and found news friends to adorn,
for first school became a heaven!
* when i was going on to my 5th class to a new school. of course i made a lot of friends and my shyness left me and i am now first at school
poem by Anjana Asok
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Paint It
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they are painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens every day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and its heading into black
Maybe then Ill fade away and not have to face the facts
Its not easy facing up when your whole world is black
I wanna see it painted painted, painted black, oh baby
I wanna see it painted painted, painted black, oh baby
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes
I wanna see it painted, painted black, oh
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted from the sky
Painted, painted, painted black oh baby
Painted painted, painted black
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Canvas (Part 2)
We last left off with such the fright,
She paints—but gasp! —that's not quite right,
For every story has a twist,
And every painting is done on her wrist.
She paints with—sorry? —with little regard,
To what may bleed and what may scar,
But oh, she paints a lovely spar,
Despite the way that most things are.
Some find it funny and watch as she flees,
Others feel sick the moment they see,
Because a painter, she can't have much of a life,
If all of her painting is done with a knife.
This painter—in fact—she thinks she's alone,
Because of the burden of problems at home,
And then there's her mind, a nasty old place,
It's mostly the cause of the paintings she makes.
But one can be trapped, or one can be freed,
Though most painters like her find this hard to believe,
Yet this very painter broke free of her sadness,
And if she ever wonders 'why? ' she can look at her canvas.
poem by Dayna Mortimore
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Unmatched Beauty
With no pencil, paper or brush in hand
The Lord has painted a picture for every man
Everything upon the earth
Came alive with every stroke
Of His mighty hand
For no one on earth can copy His work
For He is the master, the author of the book
poem by David Kush
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School Just School
School we need it
school, friends
school you have teachers
school is great
high school is even better
college, PARITES
school you mite find your true love
new experiences everyday
school, dances
school just school
school who dose not love it
school is fun
school, preps
school, classes
school, math, science, computer classes
school is great love it
school just school
we need school
poem by Kerri King
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And I started with this: I have not painted at all my childhood. In fact, I never painted. But I helped my father who was a house painter and decorative painter. He made stage sets, he made glass paintings, he made everything.
quote by Josef Albers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is he alone who has courage on his right hand and faith on his left hand?
quote by Charles Lindbergh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Butter in her mouth
Butter in her mouth
School time is just too over, waking up and ready for the school otherwise I will beat you bitterly.
He put off the bed sheet from my body, stretched my hand,
In addition, put me on my foot.
Tears came in my eyes then I went slowly and slowly to my mother in the kitchen,
I put my finger towards my father
And complained about the rude behavior of my father,
Who was asking him to go to the school?
She embraced me; kiss my fore head, and politely asking me to become ready to school because I have to be an officer by studying in the school.
Orders were the same.
Father orders me to wake up and to go to the school while he was having a stick in his hand.
Mother also orders him to go to the school having butter in her mouth.
(From the diary of an Indian)
poem by Vijay Gupta
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