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Art Inspirational Poems | Inspirational Poems About Art

These Art Inspirational poems are examples of Inspirational poems about Art. These are the best examples of Art Inspirational poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Lyric |

WHEN I STOP AND PRAY

When the storm clouds boil around me, 
And the lightning splits the sky--. 
When the howling wind assails me,
And life's sea is rolling high--
When my heart is filled with terror,
And my fears, I can't allay--
Then I find sweet peace and comfort, 
When I simply stop and pray.

When the things of life confound me,
And my faith is ebbing low--
When my trusted friends betray me,
And my heart is aching so--
When the night seems black and endless,
And I long for light of day--
Then I find a silver dawning,
When I simply stop and pray.

There are things beyond the heavens
I can't begin to understand,
But I know that God is living,
And I know He holds my hand.
Yes, I know He watches o'er me
All the night and all the day--
And He's always there to hear me
When I simply stop and pray.


Details | Free verse |

Grief is Grief is not

Grief is not something we “get through”…
you “get through” a bad day
Grief is not something we “get over”,
“you ”get over” a cold”
Grief is not something we “move on from”
you “move on from” a bad relationship”
 
But Grief is… a companion we “move forward with”,
learning from and growing, with each agonizing step.
 
Grief is… a heart-wrenching process, not bound by time,
But sets us on a “lifelong journey” of finding truth and meaning…
 
Grief is not a crutch we hold onto for pity
It is not a lack in character
It is not a weakness that needs to be strengthened
Or a problem that needs fixing
It is not an enemy to be slain
Or like a wild animal, to be caged
 
Grief is… “A METAMORPHOSIS OF HUMAN LIFE”
YES! that needs “time”… “A LIFETIME”
 
Grief is… an acknowledgement of true love shared
and true love lost
 
Grief is… a love we hold so deep within our souls
That our tears fall to caress the pain…
“God given tears”, full of purpose and meaning
For each one carries with it a piece of our heart
 
grief hugs us and holds us close
to a great love we can no longer touch…
grief is… our friend for without it
our lives would have been a lie.

Grief is…purely and simply a journey of love
It is a friend, to those of us who mourn
A friend who sees what we need and allows us to be us
Grief is a release of unimaginable pain…
a release of a great indescribable loss…
 
 
Grief is… the bridge that crosses repentant oceans,
spans desolate canyons, and fear filled mountain tops.
that we may cross over this tragedy to a renewed heart 
by means of the love we shared and continue to share
through the love of our Almighty God
 
 
Grief is…
A pain we can use, to broaden our hearts
and the hearts of all those around us
it is… a road we must travel to gain wisdom.
A level of wisdom you will never achieve by playing strong.
For only when we sink to the bottomless pit of grief
Will we be awakened by the light of truth.
 
Grief…
Do not judge it… for it contains Gods secrets
Secrets you can only hear by listening
through the blare of the pain.
It is a sacred contract to be in awe of and inspired by
To learn from and grow from
To gain compassion and understanding from
It is a journey that holds a sacred contract
That will be signed by each and every one of us
Who has the strength… and the courage…
to love with all your heart and all your soul.
It is not a journey I would wish on anyone
But now that I am here I will walk it with honor
And purpose, with my head held high and my feet in stride
For at the end of this road there you’ll be,
waiting to take me home.


Details | Quatrain |

The Rose

Tis the rose that wants to live
That rails against the frost,
Tightly closed, the petals warm
The autumn heart that summer lost.

The dew that drips from rose to leaf
Like tears from cheek to breast,
Once was cold, now shimmers warm
To earn, at last, its' rest.

The blackened bud, once struck with cold
Appears to others dead,
But burns within, a passionate soul,
And heart of bright and crimson red.

And bursting forth it cannot hide
The will to live within,
Its' bold and subtle softness tells
Persistent hearts can win.

Craig Cornish
This quatrain poem was written twenty plus years ago and was inspired by a true frost bitten rose at a truly emotional time and its story and message is real and still lives.  I brought the rose in and put it in a vase and it opened to be a perfect rose and like the rose love did the same.



Details | Quatrain |

No Greater Love

For God so loved this sinful world, He gave us all His son; That we might live with Him one day, when life on Earth is done. No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed, And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed. The time was short for Jesus Christ, but what He gave mankind To lift our hearts and save our souls has yet to be refined. The grace and style in which He moved through politics and fools, Has paved the way for paths we trod through worldly ways and rules. His teachings spread throughout the land, His miracles renowned, He only had to touch a life to show His love was sound. Two thousand years have come and gone since Christ communed with man; And with his dying saved us all, to serve God's ancient plan. He rose from death, as He had said, and proved His word was true, That life eternal waited those who choose to suffer through. Salvation came that fateful day, the Bible tells us so; And time has shown that through God’s love the weakest spirits grow. Now, modern times are hard on us and cause us all to doubt, For change is there at every turn, and Satan’s always out. It’s now we need the love of God, for always, as before; Just lift your heart and ask for it, and see what lays in store. It’s through God’s love we handle change and how it makes us strong In ways we deal with worldly things and sort the right from wrong. For change is just another way the Lord sees fit to use To make our days seem fresh and new with paths to take and choose. It’s by our faith we live our lives and seek a brighter day, And how we find the confidence when doubts get in the way. But most of all it’s happiness that faith’s been known to give When our misfortunes come to cloud these modern times we live. We need not fear what God has wrought. We need not know His plan. We only need to know He’s there, and love’s in store for man. Just think the words you’d ask in prayer, and ere a sound be heard, His perfect love will fill your heart before you’ve breathed a word. No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed, And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed. But God forgave our debt to Him, we live in grace today; The greatest love you’ve ever known is just a breath away.


Details | Free verse |

PORTRAIT OF A NIGHTMARE

In the boxed gilded frame exists the residue of
A painter’s vision, of his nightmare placed upon
Canvas.
Locked within the cells of four square,
Lies a view into the ethereal world beyond our 
Conscious mind.
A heckling demon does laugh, at she the white
Gowned maiden of innocence lies slain, as her bloods
Warmth slips silently away, and life's flash memory,
Closes around her for the last time.
Hear the thundering sounding. From the heavy laden hooves,
As hell's white steed, claims the vanquished heart of
The innocent, and riding unto the gates of black ebony,
He does so bare a rare prize, the soul of purist beauty.
Oh so do the angels cry in heaven, weeping in tandem's chorus.
For death's fallen will know the torments hidden in
The mighty halls of hell's keep, for dark has over come
The light, and at it's flickering the last hope of mankind,
Has become one of the a shunned.
Seductions father of evil, takes the white hands of
The maiden of innocence, for one last waltz, as life leaves
Her damaged shell, behind a phantom spirit of betrayal,
Is left at the threshold of the forgotten, and salvation's door
Slams shut unto her; she is suicide's victim of the broken
Hearted, never to know the taste of Eden, or to see the glory
Of Gods kingdom beyond.
Nipping beneath the ladies gown of white, the demon
Chastises her, belittling a life so sacrificed for what
He does so scold; it is a minor thing, this emotion called love.
Tears fall, be you so quite, demon, I've suffered enough, but he
Is the hells jackal, and is her greatest tormentor.
Awaken painter, she pleads from the ethereal realm,
In sweats uneasy slumber, but the artist shields his eyes to late,
And he has seen too much, for a mortal to so easily forget.
Upon the canvas is a dreams vision,
And trapped within, is she the soul of innocence,
Forever encased within this prison, a
Painter's revelation, called the portrait of a
Nightmare.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Details | Free verse |

The Conventional Girl

Underneath the sea of trust 
Words shovelled sand in her eyes
The smell traced back a map of hope
Paradise could still not be located

Joy lived far from her earth
Please wake me after my death
For I might have missed the turn 
I did dig my own emergency grave I remember

My dream trails had no brake lights
Bumps after bumps 
Poetry drums speeding eternal crumps 
Every soul bumped into my back seated lips
The road to their ears required constructive rhymes
Poetry police 

Bulldozers bullied opportunities on the pavement of my love
Paradise got dizzy and lost meaningful visions 
Conventionally my heart is one
Sharpened in tubes sharing heart-beats with no lies

I loved loving love
Restricted dreams to stick-away from uneven pants chasing bums 
My mouth opened doors shaming the unshakable love triangle stunts 
Usually conventional uses are unusual 

My heart my grave
The future I paved
The sand glowed like stars in my eyes
Disgraced to blind my visual crafts
My confession

The roots of my strength came in veins
Circulating thoughts 
He made me shoes from manmade bricks
For I walk buildings in my dreams 

Skyscrapers scrubbing the breeze of hope in the sky
She placed her heart in rules
Speak your promise 
I the conventional girl 

© Ray 


Details | Dramatic monologue |

God Gave You a Second Chance

God Gave You a Second Chance
 Not ready to leave this world with unfinished business determining the souls color; you’re on borrowed time! Prayers to heaven and words spoken from the heart brought perspective to what time remained. Fear and regret knowing this may be the end brought us closer than before. Always by your side loving, giving freely would now perhaps help spare your life adding color to your heart and soul.
The soul colored with Hope, Faith, and Love, the greatest being Love! I wonder have you given God what was expected for a second chance at life to color your heart and soul. Color determines the hearts purity and the soul’s condition. 
Souls are empty without love in the purest form; if you do not receive and give without fear, shame, or doubt!  From the outside looking in many colors of love surround your soul. I pray the love I give you understand the colors surrounding my heart and soul.
Love was holding you when death looked you in the face and love put death on hold! God and I give you Love. How do you face life and death now, with a heart and soul of vivid colors nourished by our love? God blessed us and we know what matters most. You now live your bucket list, God’s too.
Your list will end, mine too. Sharing with a loved one brings special meaning, understanding, and allows comfort taking away fear, pain, and panic. With unconditional love all’s shared. Colors of the soul glow, angels gather, and God gently lifts one unto himself. The guardian angels exit; slowly colors fade, a feeling passes the one left behind as the end has come. I imagine the colors of love in the heart and soul.
                                                                                                                                                             Debbie Knapp
		


Details | Verse |

this is why i woo words

This is why I play philosophy
 on the field that lures lore,
 to gain the literati’s lovely trophy
 and the golden grains of life to explore.	

This is why I fraternize fair play
 on the pitch where wisdom wonders,
 to dichotomize shadows and sunray
 and to preach ours’ to plough and not to plunder.

This is why I write white
 on the surface that’s clean and clear
 to rid the world of nasty knight
 and to harmonize monks and men each year.

This is why I woo words 
 to have rhymes as my errand boy
and lyrics as the golden cords
around the poetry pen I will always employ.


Details | Free verse |

SOMEWHERE ALONG HER HANDS


' '''''''' ' '' Somewhere a hand is reading out loud a Dickinson, a leather-worn journal recording daily life’s soirees, memorizing rain and shielding little girl’s eyes from the blasting words of the sun. Somehow someone reaches from darkness to drive the shadows that meet the body of her child: trembling with excitement or fear, sliding tender fingers on the back; parts the arms like wind that rushes in all seasons to reveal the lush, delicious landscape of summer ; then rubs the elbow down the forearm to greet the cheeks with a kiss and watches while the hands move back without help or guidance from the daughter sleeping. ~ Somewhere a mother, grandmother, godmother, stepmother, or mother nature weeps over love’s broken child; uses her hair to bandage the wound on the youth’s head …unfolds her hands from prayer to widen the window of angel psalms pressing her lips into alleys of the sapling’s mouth: a tear transforms her from receiving to giving. ..and she feels without seeing the last light of the night; lit for the heart of those who witness its extinguishing * Somewhere death’s chariot prepares for a long journey, away from the living: pack the roses from tomb to womb, remove the thorns for gracious sake, like knives that pierce the heart of loved ones who cannot move on, pulling the orchards over her head; a name whispered in every fireplace she flamed * * And somehow tonight, I hear her stir, still clinging to the waning voice of the hours; she bequeaths stars I will inherit until she, at last succumbs to wispy bliss. And I, a sighing child must tell her: “ Wake up, you've been in bed so long, Mother, you should not be sleeping…” ~ © ........ .... ........ *with love to my Mom who had passed on* Gautami Phookan's Poet lll Contest by nette onclaud


Details | I do not know? |

Raindrops

Raindrops
are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
my spine

Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty 
about what tomorrows
pain may bring

They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
illumination. glistening
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best

Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide

Ready to Receive
whatever
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
my spine

My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
does bring
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers
home

For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine


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