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Art Sad Poems | Sad Poems About Art

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

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Details | Narrative |

The Clouds

THERE HE WAS HOLDING OUT HIS HAND.

My voice=
God, can I hold your hand and go with you?

Gods voice~
My sweet child, it is I who will walk with you now! You walked down my path with and without faith. You took my protection to ease your pain. My shielded wings comfort you during your moments of suffering while your life staggered across the earth... Your love and devotion is what made you strong. Every time your dreams were broken. You managed to build more dreams in their place. You called my name during your happiest and saddest moments. You always ran up to me when you fell behind. Your secrets became our private talks. The key to your heart was always unlocked. I was there during your trials and troubles of tribulations. We could not speak, but it was my light that would not allow you to get weak.

My voice=
Is this that dream of beauty? The one in the book my preacher spoke of. 
Yes! I remember it now it is called paradise. I felt this company once before, Lord.
Many times, I have forsaken this light, and still it never left my door.
I felt it the day I was born, and the day I became baptized in your holy name.
I felt this light before, can you explain it some more? 
Lord pleases clarify that day I fell down to my knees and accepted Jesus as my savior? 
Every day since, I felt as if you stood away and walked on by, allowing me to face my own failures’.  Was my life a waste in this impossible world?"

Gods voice~  
My child, this is the everlasting light you will feel every time your body is re-born onto a new road.  This light never left you. 
My sweet child did you not listen, Matthew *19:26* MY SON looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with ME all things are possible. My child you were not searching for the right answers.

My voice= 
My Lord everyone told me if I prayed you would come. Did I not pray right?

Gods voice~ 
My child sometimes your heart asked for more than life itself, which left questions for someone else.  
At times how could I answer when you shunned heaven away from your eyes?
The obvious question is whether this is the final immersing of your souls disguises.

My voice= 
Lord, I have other questions to ask. 
What should I expect out of my personal sins? My testimonial sits in the palm of your hand.
My mind and my heart's inner core have been wicked since my adolescence days. 
How is it that I am in your promise land?

Gods voice~  
Getting right with me has brought you here!

My voice= 
One more question My Heavenly Father.
Can I see her?  I meant, could I see them? My Daughter, Mother's and Sisters~

by;PD


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) |

Suicide Masterpiece

Suicide Masterpiece

Sweat drop
On top
Trigger pop
Written note
All I got
Hang knot
Body rot
Suicide cop

I hope not
Cry out loud
I think not
Body's hot
I am too proud
I am loved a lot
Roof top.
Suicide bride

Heavy vain
Your game 
the same
Trapped shame
Gone insane
Who's to blame
Red stain
Suicide rain

Addictive dope
Needle hope
Poison taste
Drowning beer
Gun shot
Painless fear
Powder nose
Suicide dose

Razor blades
Flame stare
Pain fades
Sadden tear
Candle wax
Smoke dare
Burn down
Suicide flare

No bluff
No name
War zone
Innocent prey
Soul blown
Cry all day
Set mind
Suicide bomb

Terrorist 
traffic jam
Plane jack
Head strong
Help protect
Customs wrong
Dead plot
Suicide stop

------
stop the suicide 

by:-)


Details | Personification |

I Look To the Moon

I look to the Moon, hanging aloft
Among the clouds so milky soft.
How must it feel, so high above?
So chilled and bleak and void of love.

Collapsed and sunken are his eyes,
Dark and deep as the onyx skies.
As the Moon shies from the sun,       
I share no love with anyone.

The Moon is alone, without affection.
In its grim face is my reflection.
Inside my heart, the longing grows,
And rots my soul, a sickly rose.

While I look beyond this cage,
I clench my fists; they shake with rage.
I desperately stare above,
Wishing to fly, free as a dove;
For release from the troubled heart I claim,
To be finally rid of the madness and shame.
                                      
Although reprieve is found in song,
To no one does my soul belong.
In music, may the pleas be spoken,
But all in vain; the heart is broken.
                            
The Sphere returns, begins to sigh.
We are not so different, You and I.
So twisted and fractured is the White Stone.
We both have no one; We are both all alone.


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
                 
   


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


Details | Narrative |

---And the Angel Looked On

"I heard an angel speak last night and he said "write" - Elizabeth Barrett Browning 

"Remember..."
that was the last word he whispered before his eyes closed forever...
"Remember..."

I close my own eyes, bite my lower lip, 'til I taste tin, stone angel crying with me...
The wind sends chills through me, as the heavens threatened to weep
brown leaves skittering between my feet, seeking for shelter.
How I related to those leaves: dry...brittle...dead.

I look at the Angel that watches over him,imploring for answers, 
begging this Guardian to take pity on me, help me remember. 
She only looks at me, with tears in her eyes, her beautiful face
always looked enigmatic to me, for she was smiling...
and yet those tears hinted at sadness, 
seemingly reprimanding me with her look.
I bow my head in shame, and reach for her hands, 
but I only feel cold, hard stone...not unlike my heart

My throat catches, I can hardly breathe--
I loosen my grip, feeling it might burn this time
...from guilt, for forgetting...

I glance at her magnificent wings, and wished I had them, too,
if only to fly away, but my feet are stuck on the ground, 
with a heart buried in regret.

I whisper one word: "Sorry":spoken so softly, I think I only said it in my heart;
I say it louder, my body wracked with sobs, my heart bleeding crimson tears of anguish. 
I look at the Angel and notice something on her sash--
One pristine white feather lay there-a stark contrast to the moss covered stone.
I take the feather, notice wordings etched on the sash--and scraped off moss, 
Tennyson's words go straight to my heart...
" 'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."

The memories come back like a flash flood, assaulting me, bringing me back to that day.
He told me he had an angel carved to be with him at his grave, 
since I, his angel, couldn't always be there for him. And that he understood, 
that it was okay. I shrugged it off, told him I love him forever.
I still do, that's why it shamed me that I also love another now.

Seeing those words, I felt such a sense of peace, like he was embracing me, 
smoothing out my hair like he used to, telling me it was all right. 
I blink back tears, and say "Thank you" this time...I hug the Angel and I felt warm.
Drizzle and sunlight bounced off each other as I walked away. 
I turn my head around to his grave
--and the Angel looked on with a smile.


Constance's Angels in Cemeteries contest
 June 18, 2011


Details | Free verse |

The View

        THE VIEW 
(A sad point of view)

I can't believe he has to be a poet
To tell you how he feels
Maybe he does not know it
Words written on paper don't really heal
Do not tell her you are sorry
When your apology is not real

To be or not to be?
That is the question you should really ask.

The man should never call himself a poet
Unless he has lived, learn, lost, and gained it all back

The man who writes good poetry
In my eyes is a man of art
He can paint you anything without a paintbrush
This is the man I call no poet, with a colorful heart

Using all his manly skills
He is way ahead of the ordinary man
Leaving the imagination, filling the soul with chills
He is like the woman who leaves you all aroused

(A sad point of view.)

While the woman swims in her own drown.
She finds herself helpless to suffering worlds.
Without a man she thinks she is lost, nowhere to be found.

The secret of the female is
When she is heart broken
She thinks life is over 
Little at the time she knows
Once a woman feels
She gets right back up to be a lady
When the time calls
The lady is stronger than ever

One thing I learned about a lady 
You better respect her
Don't destroy her better days
She will crumble you up for sure
If the lady says she is a poet 
Than a poet in her

I will never insult a lady
She will crush you where it hurts 
A real lady knows how to control her man
A lady knows how to keep her emotional words real

But the woman needs to grow 
Stop trying to be something she's not
In time she will know
To give it her best shot
I will praise myself and say
"Woman always come and go."
A poet, she can act and play
With fake words that have no flow
  
This is my demo to all poetry freaks
Keep it real!!

by:PD


Details | I do not know? |

Sweet Nothings

I miss when I could just curl up and cry within your arms,
I have someone else who I can do that with now,
But still I miss when your arms felt right around me,
My heart still crys, at whats broken and missing,
There once was this connection, this bond between us two,
I dont know what happened to it, why this feels so different, do you?
And though I love this other, my heart still loves you too,
Dont ask me who I love more, because my answer might not be true,
I love you both, with all my heart, you've just hurt me more,
But still the dreams sometimes seep in between the cracks of our closed door,
And still I see myself, again within your arms, 
Only this time, I would be there, forever and ever more,
Love, can you tell me, what happened to us then? 
Why is it that when I touch you, you feel like less even then a friend,
My heart says yes, it wants you, but my body rejects yours like a plague,
My lips dont whisper sweet nothings with yours~ within the years hidden in the days,..


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


Details | I do not know? |

Sweet Nothings

I miss when I could just curl up and cry within your arms,
I have someone else who I can do that with now,
But still I miss when your arms felt right around me,
My heart still crys, at whats broken and missing,
There once was this connection, this bond between us two,
I dont know what happened to it, why this feels so different, do you?
And though I love this other, my heart still loves you too,
Dont ask me who I love more, because my answer might not be true,
I love you both, with all my heart, you've just hurt me more,
But still the dreams sometimes seep in between the cracks of our closed door,
And still I see myself, again within your arms, 
Only this time, I would be there, forever and ever more,
Love, can you tell me, what happened to us then? 
Why is it that when I touch you, you feel like less even then a friend,
My heart says yes, it wants you, but my body rejects yours like a plague,
My lips dont whisper sweet nothings with yours~ within the years hidden in the days,..


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