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Life Art Poems | Life Poems About Art

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

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Details | Dramatic Verse | |

A Man's Tale

A man’s tale 

With mind control there he was,
A man for sale…
Hearing the vocal sound from this wordsmith, 
A man in his own tale…
Currently, he was sitting and calling upon the earth.
Prior rumors about his love for the Queen.
Yet to come would be a bard, singing for Her Majesty-

A fool wrapped in a cowardly way.
Flowers and scars sat on his floor.
A torn heart, making its way out the door.
He caresses the image of her in his mind.
This man, this bard, sang a song for the blind.

Releasing a soft note, she turns towards the sun.
Forgetting the ferocious rage of the king.
The man kneels with the light flashing in his face.
He drinks with his eyes, one moment of glee.
His headlands under the moon's winter space.

Never again, will he spend his days thinking.
Never again-
 will he feel the shivers when calling upon the earth and her beauty. 
Never will he know, he was the tune that eased her thirst.

A man’s tale always ends under a woman’s spell. 

by;PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

- Life Behind The Mirror -



Enchanting chambers made of glass 
Breaking reflections shatter falling into ruin
The history behind the tears and sorrow of a heart
Fragile echoes inside truth broken always sings 
If this be loves beauty like dropping crystals splash
Speaks a language of one thousand tongues when the sparks fly
 
The soul released from thought 
Faraway shadows cover a dream
When you have found what you're looking for
And always breathe in the beauty of nature
Silver buds glisten in morning dew 

Millions of years before you or me
Weeping willow hangs heavy over us 
These things and so many more
have made you and me understand
Blossoming sunshine shades golden 
Crowned kissed by love in the summer  rain 

What a beauty to wake up to birdsong
Carried on gentle winds when they sigh
Hearing screams from the raven far up in the mountains
Secrets of the water flowing whispers 
Our lives have a meaning here on this earth
Stars circle your space in another realm 
Thoughts and dreams put together as mosaic
A moon smiles as shadows dances to a joyous tune 
The smell of pine needles tickle in the nose
As a sun lights our footsteps with golden harmony 
Commitment strong and sense of purpose is the key to life
 






13.05.2015
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Insanity or Death

Insanity or Death

Life begins with insanity~~
~Your soul is kicking and screaming, 

Ready to exit with the touch of human hands.
Insanity rides on a gallant stallion ready to pant.
Hides in the mind, mourning its captive soul. 
Ready to breach over holding its breath.
Projecting in and out without a guide.
Bites away at the feast, enchants for freedom.  
From the lips……….....
Taking length against a world of dilemmas, 
Contrasting to a never happy end.
The epidermis cover every wall of insanity.

To live, to eat, and to suffocate it determination without air.
Dramatically hallucination against its will of no wells.
Until it realizes it can drink without water.

No further needs a slumber.
The mind-bends and unfolds to ordinary jolts, 
When left to human consummation.
Insincerely bidding and cutting to die in the sleep.
Is how it pleads!

Graves where dreams have no meaning.
Caves where goodness can be redeemed.
A temple of misguided fortune.
All respect lost to this infection,
The patients’ weight distracted from an antidote.

The madness begins too finds admiration-
That makes catastrophe go on and on.
The psychosis of the mind and mockeries of them will never be gone
Dictating in everything wrong,
Layers of cramped bricks, level the isolation.

Death drags its feet off into this infinite helix world.
A source of light breeding out of darkness.

"Sanity is no friend of mine!"
Insanity is earth herself, 

Where there is life, there is a reason, 
Where there is reason, there is madness,
Where there is madness, there you are,   
Feeling nothing………………...
Lost in darkness................ 

~Your soul is kicking and screaming
Life ends with death~~

by:pd

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry | |

A Bridge Over Silent Waters

A Bridge Over Silent Waters

Never judge your fellow man
Before seeking your own reflection
Not the one that shines in a glass mirror
Seek it in the eyes of your fellow man
His eyes shall reflect your compassion or lack there of

When a pond has no ripples
Look for the lies, underneath
When you see the waves upon the water
Know that the winds are singing to you
Truth will always seek you out

Never close your heart to a strangers smile
His smile may bring you serenity or deception
Trust in your inner being to know
It shall open up towards the rainbows or seek refuge 
To protect your soul

When you see a human suffering
Flea not inside your reflection
Instead reflect upon his suffering
Share the waters of your pond with him
This shall promise you both more rainfall


Notes

This was inspired by a poem written by Charmaine, she was kind enough to let me use a few of her lines in the first verse of this poem. Its amazing how when you read something it can open your mind to think of things you otherwise would not have. For some reason, maybe more because of his messages than his style I find myself thinking of Richards’s poetry as well. This for me is the beauty of the site, the inspiration one gets from fellow poets, it’s a great honor to have met so many, and to have shared so many ideas and views and opinions. More important than any poem is the laughter and smiles, this among friends is like giving away gold bars. (Although I do accept the occasional gold bar now and then)

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Acrostic | |

Open Sores

I am a coward with open sores. 
I write and wonder who it bores. 
I hear my heart and mind argue repeatedly. 
I see others carrying out my dreams; 
that’s what’s defeated me.
 
I am a coward with open sores. 
I pretend open doors are closed, and walk the other way. 
I touch base with the fear in my heart, tearing me apart,
leaving nothing to say... 
I worry the world will leave me. 
I cry because no one believes in me. 

I am a coward with open sores. 
I understand nothing comes easy. 
I say I’m happy, but even I don’t believe me. 
I dream I am healed and brave. 
I try to overcome my weaknesses before I’m in my grave. 
I hope you hear me.
I’m on all fours. 
I am a coward with open sores. 




©  2011  ~JSLaM    

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* 1st PLACE in Contest "MARCH MADNESS" Sponsored by C. Devonshire 2011

* 1st PLACE in Contest "ONE OFF" Sponsored by Brian Strand 5/11/2011 

* 1st PLACE in Contest "BEST EVER" Sponsored by P.D. 2011
                 
   

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Soul mates solace

When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender 
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories 
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised 
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet | |

A Painter's Pine

The void calls through gossamer veils and widow's peak. Shifty-eyed now of necessity I lie, bone-wrapped in rosaries black as my rheumy eyes, death speaks. Uncomforted by down or velvet, role trapped corseted, board stiff with age like calf skin vellum peeled and bloodied by the dual edged knife of man. The scene is set and I shall not whimper, as do some, or call to God, or blame the fates of those whose clans remain earth-bound, when I have left this mortal glade. Pigment on canvass, linseed loosed, stretchers taut, displayed, all of this, I've had a plenty, and been royally paid. My life was art, and it was art that fanned my life's flame. So, stretch me on the pine boards and lay my edges down; monochrome me in umber, drench me in shades of brown.
Self Portrait See About the Poem

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

All That I Am


You know me as a poet and writer of poems rhythmic,
I take poetic license, violating rules and conventions;
Telling a story using figurative language to share,
     My life's journey and sorrows in beautiful words.
     Few beyond this safe harbour have read my poems,
     I write with raw emotion and I lay my soul bare;
     My poems are my treasures that I keep hidden,
                              Fathomless the pain.
        My view on life is somewhat sadly fatalism,
          What will be will be, it is already written by God.
There are many facets to me that I share with few,
Classical music moves me to write my poetry and words;
Chopin, the poet of the piano, Mozart, oh the lyrical charmer.

And I am a lover of art, going to the art gallery weekly,
I love Van Gogh, Degas, Pissario, Bernini and Botticello;
Leonardo and of course, Michelangio, I could go on and on,
     I am fascinated in the architecture in my city.
     Often I just walk the streets looking for beauty,
     Admiring gothic revival with its arches and vaults;
     And I love the Victorian building where I reside,
                              With my two cats.
        A small garden created with a love for nature,
          A tribute to my mother's great fondness of flowers;
Other things you may not imagine about me are many,
Adore vintage jewellery and clothes and antique anything,
A collector of books, reference, dictionaries, all in a clutter.
     
And one last thing that I find so very odd and strange,
Is that although since childhood I have walked with death;
How death haunts me, I take a job in nursing to help people die,
                                And God weeps.

__________________________
July 30, 2015

Verse

For the contest, All That You Are, sponsor, Charlotte Puddifoot

7th Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sestina | |

The Potter's Wheel

Pulling with hands soft and smooth as glazed clay,
Her foot prods the pedal, turning the wheel.  
She basks in the bliss of a beautiful mess.
 
She's learned art is born from that carefree mess.
Moulding with hands caked in layers of clay, 
She makes artwork dance on that spinning wheel.
 
Her bones creak along with the aging wheel,
Silver hair spattered by flecks of sweet mess.
She glazes with hands rough and cracked as dried clay.
 
Beyond clay and wheel, life spins a fine mess.  

*Form: Tritina

Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain | |

Another Day

A torch carried on forever, indeed,
for the aggressive rhymer in me,
is alive again, unshackled and freed,
rising to challenge another day, I see.

As I found myself lost deep in Tolkien,
with epic Star Wars, never ending,
surrounded in a geek paradise, serene,
optical illusions before me, suspending.

Life's songs on guitar strings strummed,
an epiphany unlike they've ever heard,
euphoric dreams in my visions hummed,
as I pen archaic word after archaic word.

Artistry is born only to be my brother,
encircled this star, a pentagram made,
my day is done, I have conquered another,
as the sun slowly brings down the shade.






A Word Collage For Chan Hurst



(Cyndi MacMillan's contest)

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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

Copyright © Heather Hill | Year Posted 2010

Details | Monorhyme | |

Make It Count

line count and word number are equal in this selection....

"Make It Count"
by:  Eric L. Boddie

A
Man may
Come to play
But if you say
Oh no baby, not today
Do you think he would stay
Or would he go so far away
In search of another lover he could lay
Doing everything associated with rolling in that infamous hay
And if push came to shove, maybe he would pay
To relieve all the stress stemming from your hips' distant sway
Because something must give, there are more than fifty shades of gray
That's common knowledge to the freaks and all those upon which they prey
And once you learn them all, I promise your lover will never ever stray
But if you miss just a single one, then you may experience that dreadful day
Where you lose it all so try to find True Love and remember to always Pray

Copyright © eric boddie | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

Frail Paper Etched With Words

Whether poets, showmen or philosophers,
Or mere cowboys who follow herds—
They all want to leave behind a lasting mark—
More than frail paper etched with words.

But the cold, hard truth still lies in the doing
And all but a blessed few will fail—
But on we go like bison over the cliff—
Hoping our wings sprout and we sail.

And like restless sleepwalkers we do wander
From one thing and then to the next—
Till we find what it is that will then save us
To put life in proper context.

So on we scribble and strive for the right phrase—
Catch meaning and life in birds—
Put emotions and feelings we briefly hold
On this frail paper etched with words. 

Copyright © Glen Enloe | Year Posted 2008

Details | ekphrasis | |

A Depiction Of One Artist And His Starry Night



Vincent Van Gogh~Starry Night __________________________ a precarious world of indecision a dark pallet of light this brilliant depiction , it does scream , it cries out blues and yellows swirl in a maze of defeat a crescent moon suspended in a blissful evening , hangs lone in agony I rest within this small town of hope my eyes are saddened , my mind relentless in delight You are mine , my asylum , my starry night a dimension of light under this wrenching canopy of demise oh Vincent... __________________________

Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Brush Stroke to Uniqueness

If my mind be painted in colors borrowed, would it be red? 
Rusted in brown, or maybe instead, an indigo streak?
Depending upon the source of inspiration, 
and the song on the radio at the time of connection...
I keep coming back to sea green, 
or the blue of underwater murals at 3ft tall of childhood,
eyes wide in fickle, transient hazel
absorbing each moment, be it safe or unstable
categorizing each scent and each color
each love and each valor
each crisp Autumn, Summer
in vats of brain paint to be later unlidded
and splashed with insignias
of every person and place and event
that ever touched corneas innocent, bent
on absorption.
If my mind be painted, I think it be green
like the moment I'm lucid before I dip dreams
and hang them to dry in the gallery
"Mind's Eye"
and push to wake up to connect, signify
every sensory path that I've traveled before
to traipse them again and still come back for more.
I'm a stickler for art and with your canvas blank
my sweet innocent dear, with each word that you hear
you will brush stroke your way to uniqueness.

Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse | |

EULOGY FOR THE ELDON GALLERY, WATERLOO


Once, it sold cultivated 
pigment, before it became 
a catacomb of cardboard drapes.
Makeshift out-of-business signs
made me wonder if the gallery owner 
intended his display,
subtitle: irony frames rage. 

Gone, the watercolour 
weeping chartreuse, a harsh backdrop 
of morose blues; Gone,  the oil 
on wood, knife strokes applied 
so thickly, it almost moved; Gone, 
charcoal sketches of thunderstorms 
greying the shores of Port Elgin.

Dark, now, halls that sheltered 
dreamscapes, art undisciplined, squeezed 
into corners, elbowing for attention. 
I ache 
                                for one dove 

that clung to an azure sky, 
the coo of my name, 
but I'd been unable to take him home 
to my cube cage. He deserved 
a rectory or a view that would provide 
sanctuary. His wings had beat against 
pulse points; one feather
tickled a memory 

of a robin that aimed 
for a cloudless sky but
collided with a picture window —  
its point of contact left a scarlet smear.
Grandmother carefully wrapped 
the corpse in yesterday’s news.

I trudged to the garbage can, 
unseen, found D-E-A-D
in its shroud, snuck to the garden 
and buried it under tall phlox, 
florid snap dragons; a child sobbing, 
wrenched by a world 
where beauty is fragile, 

                                disposable.

Today, people walk along the street, 
hold devices that fail to signal
that something living slowly
starves to death, atrophies; I watch
a happy girl point to a puddle, 
but her mother fails to see 
the large coin it holds.

There had been a portrait, 
like a sun shower, its perfect fault lines 
of light and rain, a woman shoed in waves, 
almost overtaken, her footsteps 
stolen by unnatural foam…
I am so sorry, artist unmet, 
do you even know 

                                you've flown 

into a shut window. 






Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

THE ART OF LIFE

His poems created melodies
     Of angel's wings and restless seas,
          Of crisp blue mornings and cloudless skies,
               And pearls of wisdom that help souls rise.

This all was written from the heart;
     No less pure than Raphael's art.
          He stroked the canvas of our mind,
               And helped the searching soul to find;

That we can learn life's melodies,
     And fly above the restless seas;
          Into the cloudless morning skies,
               Until at last we realize.

We all are artist in a way.
     We mold our lives with heaven's clay.
          Though many brushes stroke our mind;
             The final picture, we've designed.

Copyright © Robert Nehls | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

When The Sun Sets

When the sun sets, The stars shine with no regrets. Darkness fills the air, The moon gives light with every care. The darkness is easier to walk through, Every light shining is so pure and true. Guidence forever are the stars in the sky, With them we find our places lifted so high. Forever is the moon to cast light upon us all, We become encouraged to stand firm and tall. The stars shine with no regrets, When the sun sets.

When the sun sets, Shining its powerful light it never forgets. Though light fades to darkness, It comes about with alertness. Shadows before the eye can see, The little shining light is enough to set us free. Sometimes we are afraid to walk alone in the dark, From which we were given a caustic remark. Guidance Forever is the changing of dark and light, It helps us to be strong and make one last fight. Forever are the shadows lurking at every turning point, If we give in it is ourselves we disappoint. Shining its powerful light it never forgets, When the sun sets.

When the sun sets, The sky is filled with wonderful colors that the ocean reflects. All the animals of the sea, Come forth creating a musical harmony. The waves crash upon the shore, Washing up new sand to the ocean floor. Its a beautiful site to see, The ocean sounds are calmingly free. Who's to say the ocean isn't peaceful get away, Its a calming place to relax and stay. The sky is filled with wonderful colors that the ocean reflects, When the sun sets.

Copyright © Tyler Knapp | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

A seed of poetry

Like water that flows in a river
Time will not stop and wait
It comes and then it goes
And now will soon be late
The sun will not rise
And forget to set
Today will not stay here forever

Time was born and passed away
While I was chasing dreams
I never dreamt of
Dreaming of things that were 
Not for me to dream about

I didn’t know at first 
That in my inside
There is a seed germinating
Deep in the roots of my heart 
Where veins and arteries
Carry blood in and out

The eyes of my eyes
Could not see
The ears of my ears
Could not hear
The tongue of my tongue
Could not taste
The nose of my nose 
Could not smell
The mind of my mind 
Was uncounscious
As this seed
Was patiently growing

It was watered by tears
That couldn’t fall off my eyes
When I cried
It was fertilized by my deep thoughts
That denied me time to rest
The pain I felt within
Was manure to it

And now it has grown
It has grown into a tree
it has grown into a green looking tree
A tree that sprouts colorful flowers
And I am hopeful
Hopeful to reap tasty fruits
Of this seed of poetry
Sown in me by God

Copyright © Bojosi Ditshwele | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet | |

Breathes

Some lives are like a stone quickly skipping over the ponds top, forever tossed.
My life is below the surface trying to reach upward with each breathe lost.
But there is still beauty, deep down here in the great depths below…
For the solitude holds me in its grip as I dwell with what I know.

My occasional trips to the surface leave me vastly wanting more…
Still, my life below the surface doesn’t scare me as it did, once before.
And the breaths will come when given, as my life continues to flow.
True it is dark but beauty lingers, everywhere the currents move below.

At times, the surface reflections seem surreal, as if it’s a place not to go.
Comfort comes more and more to my soul, as the deeper I glide below.
Here I dwell within myself, with words, and thoughts, that carry me along.
Perhaps I have found where I truly belong, as I sing my siren songs.

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Dear Me

Dear Me,

I need you to be stronger
I need you to never be afraid

swallow your pride,and your flight will be softer
tell her you love her,even if it hurts

Grab onto your dream and live it
Do not be afraid of the sun's divinity

Be better,love more, hold on.

Dear Me,

Enjoy every stop of the ride.
For when the train finally stops...we die

Until we witness the angels dance after final day...
Dear Me, hide your fears away

Copyright © Winter Wallace | Year Posted 2009

Details | Acrostic | |

Life Saving Rain

Life Saving Rain

Life saving rain, drops splattering about
Indians in drought sought it with a dance.
Falling on tin roof, water from a spout
Every dripping hymn, giving sleeping trance.

Saving crops, the farmers to it give prayers
And seeds awaiting blooming sweet relief.
Vast seas depending upon rain's showers
Inca priests killed for it, in deep belief.

Now we know, rain often heavenly sent
God washes this flower garden he built.
Rain renews, as its dear gifts are soil-spent 
And we blithely pollute it with no guilt.

Indians honored their rain-god with glee
Not ignoring that gift, like you and me!


12-22-2015

Acrostic sonnet, (LIFE SAVING RAIN)
Perfect tens, perfect 100 words, rhyming 
acrostic sonnet.

Syllables Per Line:	
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	100

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

I Remember Fierce Storm That Blew My Life Apart

I Remember Fierce Storm That Blew My Life Apart

I remember fierce storm that blew my life away.
Images burned into a sad, finely tortured mind;
reminds me of that epic and dark fateful day,
tears falling down but no good answers could I find.

So in love with my sweetheart but soon hope gave way,
when drug induced Nirvana flew into our home.
Easy now to see it in slow motion replay,
when I groped in darkness wherever I dared roam.

Raging clouds gathered within the uncertain West
as thunder spilled over into each haunting hour.
No joy in simply knowing that I did my best,
while I saw the destruction of my wild flower!

I remember fierce storm that blew my life apart.
Its massive crushing winds destroyed my aching heart.

Robert J. Lindley, 1-11-2016

Form- Sonnet, I used 12 syllables instead of ten.

Syllables Per Line:	
12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12
Total # Syllables:	168
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	124

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

The Day That Died Forever

When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...

I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky

The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn

I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe

The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul

Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through

Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost

I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art

As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow

Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place

The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost

Day was Life,Night is Death

And the latter has given counsel on my final steps

Copyright © Winter Wallace | Year Posted 2009

Details | Sonnet | |

My Heart Shall Not Fade In Crying Red Rust

My Heart Shall Not Fade In Crying Red Rust

I shall beat down the walls of your dungeon
And smash its power into fading dust.
My spirit by you will not be bludgeoned,
My heart shall not fade in crying red rust!

Once, I saw such goodness in your sweet soul.
Those years have all vanished into the dark,
Where raging waters drown love in its roll
Madness of your hate shows to be so stark!

I still long for that soft gentle touch
With the press of those sexy luscious lips.
This heart cries deep, in loving you so much
Despite cut of claws on your fingertips!

I can never change pains of fate and time.
Yet I cry my loss in poetic rhyme!

R.J. Lindley
Sept 23rd, 1976 

Syllables Per Line:	
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	
Total # Words:	116

Note- Old poem, slightly edited today to improve its form 
and omit sad and deeply personal messages vented at the time of 
its creation. Although its extra verses (altered or cut) to bring 
down to brevity of the sonnet form were very good, I will keep 
the original intact in my private writes, for my children to read 
only after I depart this existence.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet | |

Tinge Of Purple Rests Within My Heart

Tinge Of Purple Rests Within My Heart

Tinge of purple rests within my tired heart
Soft touches of a heavy old soul
Now pulling on my heavy empty cart
Often my world seems to be lumps of coal.

I heard thumps of acorns falling on down
That majestic oak sheds its little seeds
Old age has me feeling like a sad clown
Longing to ride again, runaway steeds

Tis winter! Culprit bringing its bleak cold
Seeds resting secure in the frozen ground
Spring will come and they rise out very bold
Yet again life comes right on around

Nature teaches us, all will be alright
Life and death matches just like day and night

Robert J. Lindley, 1-26-2016

Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line:	
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	107

NOTES: 
 1. My muse woke me at 4 am to write this.
I told her no but she nagged until I rose to
do the deed. I' tell ya , I want to strangle her
sometimes but then at other times love her to
death..
 2. The immediate repetition of the word "heavy" in verses two and three is intentional and used for effect, as both the old soul and its life's burdens are now currently found to be very heavy to bear. Poet's prerogative , norms be damned says I. 



Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet | |

Black Death Among The Shadows Does Gaily Roam

Black Death Among The Shadows Does Gaily Roam

Black death among the shadows did roam
deep in solitude its power reigns.
Nowhere and everywhere it calls sweet home
and always its appearance brings pains.

Through fords, over mountains into gentle seas
fate sends its messenger in a black shroud.
Never to be stopped by the many crying pleas
or women moaning and wailing out loud.

Its only victorious foe, the light of eternal life
where our Redeemer's truth and divine love grows.
Delivering us from depths of misery and strife,
brought by suffering from fear of death's throes.

Black death among the shadows does gaily roam
Yet tis forever forbidden in God's sweet home.

Robert J. Lindley, 4-21-2016

Note--- INSPIRED BY A THREE POEMS READ THIS MORN.. 
My thanks goes to these three great poets for the inspiration
to write this sonnet this morn-- Peter Duggan, Lin Lane and Seeker..

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet | |

Played The Safe Notes In My Lone Retreat

Played The Safe Notes In My Lone Retreat

That fear was always darkness in disguise
A high cliff, a frail rope and my hanging.
Inspired hope not enough, word to the wise
Fear is darkness and roaring loud banging.

I played the safe notes in my lone retreat
Seeking warm meals to soothe my tepid soul.
Just barely enough sweet dessert to eat,
With that coward's safety as my main goal!

That fear was always darkness in disguise
My life was safe in it being so wild.
Living just one lousy day the grand prize
Safe comfort sadly sought like a small child!

Pray tell? Why show this discovery now?
Fear now defeated but I know not how.

Robert J Lindley, 1-25-2016


Syllables Per Line:	
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	
Total # Words:	110

NOTE:  Sonnet on why I was so damn wild  as a
young man and wanting the world to kill me.
I fought it every damn day, fought people too.
Yet fate said no, you'll not get your wish to die young. 
You will grow old and face that reality as well..
Ah, now I see-- world says we strike the last blow!

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse | |

Art of the heart

Some write to write, others to please their own romance and love
I write to enchant thy heart, and thy imagination, thy vision
To tell yee the truth I write to please my desire, to fulfill a personal mission
For I am to touch the souls of men into the right path with God our lord from above

When yee find thyself in the open pause thy heart and look at your surroundings
Pay audience to nature herself, for she comes alive but by His breath of life that creates
Open thy ear, feel the peace that flows in the open air, hear yee not the wind it sings!
Whom but all poets shall come to open eyes, for their gift is to see and write to appreciate

Walk in thy own path, make thy own life come to life
Thank Him everyday for thy joy, for thy own peace
For sooner than the sun sets for eternity will His return be, and all time will cease
Drink thy wine, live life with joy, and be true to thy wife

For it is promised that yee shall receive no more than thee can bare
As He knows of thy hearts smallest desires, and will provide, if thee seeks Him first
Jump with tears of gratitude, for He promised a Bright tomorrow
Will no one believe, as in the times of Noah? Believeth so for all must end, all sorrow

With each passing sun He nears
Yet the world stands idly by, no one even fears
The heart of the earth finds itself celebrating and ill in fake cheers
Little do they know, that He will arrive in times of sleep and with an army of spears

Hear the message for it is not I that write to thy aid, but our Lord himself for he loves us all
as all men were created equal, and some to speak to hearts
Feel the burden that dwells on my heart, and read on before thy soul departs
Rejoice in my art, as I bring about the art that comes from the heart

Copyright © Edward Orozco | Year Posted 2009