Best Abstract Art Poems
Dedicated to artist N.
It was the spring so frantic that
even the ancient gallows at
the city square spawned a green sprout.
I read my poetry aloud
to you, my first, my awkward and
ecstatic poems that I penned
last night to sing your abstract art,
your cold and unresponsive heart,
your gray-blue eyes and the prune sleet
on my lone way home. Oh, how sweet
you are, young rhymes! Years later I
see that not fondness but those my
first trials of pen resulted in
my happiness, my gloom akin
to deepest hell, my grace, my curse,
my sleeplessness and this small verse.
You married a long time ago,
I sing of other beauties, though,
in spring the memories about
you still make ancient gallows sprout.
Abstract mystery lady, on the burgundy museum wall,
Eyes in deep shadows, in her green dress at the ball,
Sitting lost in thought, of what no one will ever know,
As the moonlight mingles with her hair at the window.
Abstract stylish lady, her face a vague blend of colors,
No longer with the crowd, now apart from the others,
In a room of wild, color swirls and vague bright lights,
Both lady and night inscrutable, backlit by moonlight.
Psychedelic streams, winding
threads of emotion, chasing dreams
towards their own rainbow;
a cacophony of thoughts;
splashes of the soul,
on a canvas.
When you tell me – O dear,
A poem you read-- I read it, there
I find a pearl hidden in a shell—
Relaxed and placid,
I read it because a lot more life there I find
Like some playful white swans are
In deep intimacy in a sun-drenched lake,
When you tell me—‘find me in your poem,’
I look for you in every word of my poem,
In the poem I find sometime the sadness of
A hollow, pensive heart, wherein
Songs are sung in an articulate moan!
In the poem often I find the truth —
A lonely homeless man sleeps on the hard
Sidewalk in a wintry cold night, for him
A poem becomes an abstract art of cruel reality!
i am not an artist,
but i have a paintbrush
i am painting the beauty of your amazing figure while in complete disbelief
you see, at one time we hated each other with a passion
we would smile evilly at each other's pain
now here we are....naked and perfectly comfortable....never happier
how in the hell did we fall in love with each other
then again, when did i become a freak for longer than one and a quarter minutes
furthermore, when did we start coming close to even tolerating each other
whatever the answers are, somewhere along the way we stopped caring
it is two nights later, and we still are exploring the masterpiece of each other
here is the kicker, we wouldn't have it any other way
i guess that is why you are wearing my ring....and nothing else....
funny how life is and how God twists the plots unpredictably
A dab here, a splash there
vivids and pastels
smooth and scraggy
spontaneous strokes
wrapped in mystery
Profound
Subtle
Silent
Divine.
Abstract Art.
A beam, a flame,
A flicker, a flash
from
Infinity.
ABSTRACT ART
innate
debate
an impression
expressed
breathe inhale
step up close
&contemplate
the moment
God's abstract art
By Michelle Morris
14/04/2023
The cloudscapes are God's abstract art
Paintings across the sky that are ever changing
He made all those brilliant artists
So it's no wonder He is always inspired
Each day I wake to a new sky painting
And it changes every hour and every day
It is magical and fantastical
It is heavenly and sublime
Thank you God for all your wonders
I am grateful and in constant awe
Mother Nature is beautiful and creative
Thank you God for creating our world
© Michelle Morris, 2023
Connoisseurs ooh, they ahh, they see horses and knights.
They utter words I do not know, admire art’s lights.
Talk about the luminosity, the density, feign delight.
Abstract paintings to me are ridiculous, boring and a fright.
Abstract art reveals the broad, mauve doorway,
To the beautiful world of bold, magical colors,
Of mahogany sunset, with orange, striated display;
Or skewed, vivid homes. Of gem weeping lovers!
The pretty wave of multicolored droplets comes,
And elongated, green flowers wait at sandy shore.
Trees of bicolored blooms, rapturize in two suns.
As ladies walk calico cats. Particolors evermore!
You feel like abstract art
Like a bed sheet waiting on a summers breeze
Like honey on my teeth
You stick to me, sickly sweet
Like a silent conductor
You write out all my mistakes
I dont have to perform
Hoping this time it takes
You say im stuck, sickly sweet
Like the gum underneath my feet
Like words that dry up beneath my tongue
Like shoes on wet sand
I can't speak or run
And my skin is on fire
I'm losing sound
I'm still shaking on solid ground
But I choose to stay
I never wish to depart
Because to me it feels like abstract art