"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape—the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show." - Andrew Wyeth
Gentle flakes wish on frozen stars
Poetries, like grace, write memoirs
The night sounds like a shadow’s song
Listening to rhythms who belong
Moon rises against black of night
Still as the words making hearts right
Remember the Poet’s words so strong
Listening to rhythms who belong
Snow falls in silence, soft as clouds
Causing night to sing to the crowds
Twilight kills whatever is wrong
Listening to rhythms who belong
Gentle flakes wish on frozen stars
Listening to rhythms who belong
Categories:
andrew wyeth, beautiful, light, muse, nostalgia,
Form: Kyrielle
“Art is the medium by which a person, having experienced an emotion, intentionally transmits it to others” – Leo Tolstoy
A bleak monotonous landscape,
Had been her outlook for years.
She so vehemently longed to escape.
The young woman fought back tears.
Christina’s world was internment.
Trapped in a body with muscles decaying.
Poor dear lacked discernment,
Her will to walk, her spirit not obeying.
Muscular Dystrophy restricted her being.
Crawling helplessly across the field,
The horizon beyond is all she will be seeing.
Determined to create an impenetrable shield.
To separate her from her crippling disorder.
Forcing herself daily, her bent limbs to be unfurled.
In spite of her debilitating marauder,
In pain Miss Christina Olson seeks to view the world.
Categories:
andrew wyeth, art, stress,
Form: Ekphrasis
A
drybrush
tempora-
producing white
out
Tribute to Andrew Wyeth (1917-2009)
Categories:
andrew wyeth, art,
Form: Lanterne
the picture hangs in my study
it's gilded fame outshines everything in the room
I enjoy looking and reliving that day
remembering....
the grass was prickly beneath my hands
blue sky made life worth while
I gaze with thoughtful frown
at the old grey house.
why does it sit in my memory
what should I remember?
why does it shout at me
go...go far from here!
laying my head down on my arms
green grass prickling my nose
I doze off.....was living again in that old house
father angry I had broken his favourite pipe
was but 3 years old...remembering the anger
as he pushed me, slamming me against the wall
falling....falling into a deep chasm
awakening I can't move, body covered in bruises
legs no longer able to carry my body.
I am here crawling in the grass, can no longer walk
looking at my old family house
remembering.... remembering
penned 4 may 2016
picture used is by Andrew Wyeth. - Christina's World
Categories:
andrew wyeth, meaningful, memory,
Form: Verse
Each subject breathes in a different way
with intimacy I can feel
Where images will call me
to fall into the spell.
Emotion draws me
to the place where
Christina's
beauty
dwelled
_____________________________
Based on the paintings of Andrew Wyeth
And his series of "Christina"
12//10/15
Categories:
andrew wyeth, art,
Form: Nonet
Andrew Newell Wyeth the artist
An American realist painter
Choice subjects were local land
And people around him
His art reflects plight
A father's hold
Keeping him
Very
Close
Andrew Newell Wyeth-July 12, 1917-January 16, 2009.
His art has an emotional pull that seems to draw me in.
Inspired by Nayda Ivette Negron's contest favorite painter.
Categories:
andrew wyeth, art,
Form: Nonet
He called them the great men
Thoreau, Goethe, Emerson, Tolstoy
Yet even as a child, I discovered Wyeth's greatness
“Christina’s World” called to me
fascinated child, as mama shopped
Christina’s painting intrigued me for hours
Blind neighbor, his inspiration
Christina was lying in a field of wheat
Saleslady explained her sad life
Glorified only in Wyeth's detailed, brilliant strokes
Staring at her so long at age eight
Mama bought the print on which I still marvel
*Pennsylvania Artist Andrew Wyeth received the National Medal of Arts in 2006 and died
just 10 days after my father on January 16, 2009. His most well-known work is Christina’s world
* Poem written April 19, 2014
Categories:
andrew wyeth, art,
Form: Free verse
In a loose-fit pink dress, she crawls through golden fields
The stems’ graceful sway in the breeze such pleasure yields
Muscular degeneration restricts mobility
But the illness did not impair Christina’s sensitivity
From his window overlooking the Olson farm
Wyeth’s heart was touched by this frail woman’s charm
Each strand of hair, each blade of grass carefully stroked
Such wonder in a child’s eyes this intriguing image evoked
Only 10 when introduced to Christina’s World
Questions and, consternation through my mind swirled
“Mommy, why is she crawling through this meadow alone?
“Where is her family? Why don’t they take her home?”
Mom understood well her daughter’s deep frustration
Wyeth’s painting won a home in a new location
Each day as I woke, my innocent eyes delighted
When this image on my bedroom wall was sighted
*Ekphrasis on Christina’s World by American painter Andrew Wyeth
Categories:
andrew wyeth, artimage,
Form: Ekphrasis
Insistent starkness claims a leafless day
As morning breaks with quiet brown and dread
A window frames a fallen tree, displayed, with jagged edge,
A severed crown that rests upon the clay
The scene inside, imparts a brooding air
A room is sparce, without a chair, but hint of hushed despair
Desolation is framed and trapped by winter's glass, instead
Simplicity and loneliness finds a table set for one
Will someone there alone break bread again
to a pensive dawning view?
The early angled sun casts shadows deep and long
A masquerade of warmth, imparts a deeply chilling flame
A melancholy mood reflects of Andrew Wyeth fame
Upon the wall, a garden grew, with flowers wild and free
Today a faded yellow memory, of how it used to be
Where once were two, has now dissolved, denied of greener days
Now holds a room of solitude and a table set for one
And a chill through window glass will crack, a lonely, winter song
-------------------------------------------------------------
Inspired by Andrew Wyeth's Painting "Groundhog Day"
http://www.andrew-wyeth-prints.com/gallery.html
Categories:
andrew wyeth, art,
Form: Ekphrasis
Artist Andrew Wyeth
Quite a comical man
One day he painted his neighbor's portrait
But only his old work boots portrayed
Categories:
andrew wyeth, art, dedication
Form: Clerihew
A
drybrush
tempora-
producing white
out
Tribute to Andrew Wyeth (1917-2009)
http://www.museumsyndicate.com/item.php?item=15621
Categories:
andrew wyeth, art, people
Form: Lanterne