Nice poems so far. Araugggh! Bogged on mine right now! It will come through!
Nice poems so far. Araugggh! Bogged on mine right now! It will come through!
Some of us laugh
Some of us cry
Some of us smoke
Some of us lie
But it's all just the way
that we cope with our lives...
The ideal not flesh
But spirit inside contained
Beauty in chaos of mind
hm. half haiku half tanka . . . ?
No day but today
-God is real, unless proclaimed integer-
*grin*
Keep 'em coming; what with the view of London and the oddly Byzantine (in the manner of W B Yeats) and the half-tanker (heh heh), I am beginning to feel like the picture looks. And I haven't been on any hallucinogenic drugs...
se non e vero, e molto ben'trovato
Here you go Rintrah ;P. At least with this I stand a chance at barely comparing with you! I tried really hard:
In the following poem I present minute descriptive imagery
of the most recent contest picture. All of the imagery (covert and overt)
might not be noticed if read over too quickly, so I'd ask
that the readers/critics/judge read it slowly line by line,
while looking at the picture periodically to notice
exactly what I'm describing. Thanks in advance and good luck
to all.
Geometric Tropic Saints
The Pervasive song is mosaic twirls,
warmly inviting Carribean Color,
giving shape,
in form and grace,
to postures painting rainbow wonders,
Taking intuition,
Making passion,
through angular knee
geometry
low rectangle, low triangle,
with outpost block to rest a hand,
a left leg, a swan end,
a high hand, a white head,
one foot down, its three-toed leg
for nature's drift on brick walk,
brown faced sweetness, cocked far left,
in bows of greatness,
in motley's twists,
in oily skins to mark saints' meekness,
in gracious flow.....
for which it stands
Adolescent09
© 3/12/07
Last edited by Adolescent09; 03-12-2007 at 01:15 PM.
My hide hides the heart inside
Order From Chaos
Vibrant yellow and pink slashes
Form a bodice and tutu—
Seemingly meaningless scrawls become
Dancer’s arms and legs in poise.
Roses bloom among controlled chaos—
Faces finely formed lost in the artistic surf,
My artist’s eye looks for perspective,
That single focused vanishing point.
Note the leg just right off center—
Formed in bold scrawls like all the rest,
Careless, daring, seemingly random whorls.
Focus microscopically upon it just a moment—
Hidden meaning in plain sight may be found—
Naked is the best disguise—
Al Hirschfeld would enjoy the irony.
In his works you find the hidden “Nina’s,”
What message is there hidden here?
Pendragon
© 3/12/07
To show you what I mean, here's an Al Hirschfeld. Can you find Nina? Look closely...
Some of us laugh
Some of us cry
Some of us smoke
Some of us lie
But it's all just the way
that we cope with our lives...
Wow guys, looks like some amazing poetry there! Everyone has used such gorgeous imagery, Im going through a little block right now myself but am pretty certain of my participation later on.
I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.
Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Pen - I used to look at those Hirschfeld paintings all the time!! They're great!
No day but today
-God is real, unless proclaimed integer-
I loved them, and was addicted to finding the "Nina's" Nina was his daughter's name, and he incorporated in into every drawing as often as possible. Knowing where to look, I count at least five in this one, with several other possibles. It has been said that Hirschfeld drawings have been used for mental training. If you can find his hidden "Nina's", you are sharp, but that is only hearsay...Originally Posted by mir
Pen - I used to look at those Hirschfeld paintings all the time!! They're great!
Pen
Some of us laugh
Some of us cry
Some of us smoke
Some of us lie
But it's all just the way
that we cope with our lives...
Love your work as always, Adolescent, particularly "in motley's twists/
in oily skins to mark saints' meekness". I blush at your compliments.
Now comes the night of Enitharmons joy!
Who shall I call? Who shall I send?
She never taught one,
How could she. She was worried.
Still that could not become her fate.
She might have started late.
Tust me, I’ve poured over her ‘form’
(Her thighs are great
Here's one from the one-frame future.
Sorta...: )
In our father’s sunshine, we were just outlines
In our mother’s orchards, we were shade
My sisters and I, we were free.
Till he came by, taught us why
The sunsets butchery exists.
How we could never die.
What can I say? Your poetry shows great imagination. All the poems this round are sounding great! It's going to be a daunting task chosing a winner...
My hide hides the heart inside
...just wondered if there was an art forum out there posting sketches to poetry.
Drawings from poetry written? Not that I know of on this forum.
....i cant see it.
To show you what I mean, here's an Al Hirschfeld. Can you find Nina? Look closely...
The~Female~Mind
In Memory of my father
Michael A. Botten
02/18/1975 - 01/09/2007
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