Best Artistic Poems
Her brush strokes sorrow upon her canvas,
as oils drip with sadness.
He captures images of silent spirits,
drifting in blackness.
In her black and white world,
her fingers weep with grief stricken strings.
He inks poems cleansing his eyes,
metaphors veil words his heart sings.
In darkness their cries are like wolves,
madly howling at the moon.
They follow the stars, till light kills their dreams,
hopes burst like a balloon.
Morning flowers bring no joy,
all they see is a garden full of weeds.
Storms bring melancholic melodies,
it's too cold to plant new seeds.
A blank canvas, an empty page,
yearn for the return of the muse.
Dusty piano, closed camera,
have no motive to amuse.
When an artist's world lacks colour,
absence means a premature end.
Wounded souls view life with closed minds,
slaying their soul's creative friend.
Silent One
Simple Musing
29 September 2019
As dark canvas unfurls bit by bit
Randomly gulping down acrylic paints of dusk
To satisfy his own thirst, not for long, to sprawl
Into a magical cosmos - flapping his dark wings atop
Swirling soft fair clouds that rock and roll
Through gray-black, myriad dazzling stars so
Idyllic, and artistically spilt sparkling stardust
Charm the sky as if shiny pompoms and buttons;
Night sky lights up my gloomy mind:
In its artsy glory, I savour a tick of tranquil clock;
Glowing bright, stars and moon transmit rays of
Harmony. Aw! tiny drops of opals and diamonds
Thrown arbitrarily at pitch-dark canvas as if
Showcasing splash liquid art - so bright and brilliant;
Knitting a charcoal-black fabric of captivating stars and moon,
Yay! our night sky is shining, inspiring my bardic pupils.
Date: 01/13/2023
Lipogram Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Our mind sees sky as golden glow
with dawn's new day on earth below.
Our mind thinks sky as azure blue
with cotton clouds in daytime view.
Our mind sees sunset's orange tint
with brilliant visions that imprint.
But sometimes nature's artistry
will paint her sky with majesty;
to think outside the box instead,
and blossom in...purple and red.
I believe that long ago, the universe’s most artistic landscaper
mixed woodlands with tropics, rock formations with mountains,
volcanic craters with lush valleys, and cascading waterfalls with
pristine still waters before blending all with an ocean and
topping it off with sunshine. Man named this place, Hawaii.
The absolute awe that defines Hawaii, is bound to awaken
any slumbering faith and rejuvenate any emotion grown numb
to the brilliance of life. While visiting the Islands of Hawaii, I
absorbed a joy and wonder from the plants that delightfully
startled my own routine senses. I have been blessed in my life
to personally view beautiful and eye-catching plant life in many
regions of the world. In Hawaii, the plants adorning and tending
the islands are the most dramatic, glorious and enchanting that
my vision has ever drunk. There is an otherness to Hawaiian flora
that suggests plants are empowered with the ability to uplift,
stimulate and captivate even the most withdrawn human vision.
entrancing colors
paint a wonderland terrain ~
landscaped free of charge
bodacious flora
thrives in hawaii's landscape ~
no mute legs walk there
There are no shape walls
to bridle one's emotions
creativity is properly ventilated
unbound by meter or syllable count
embracing nakedness
yanked naked in its virginity
The binding belt of chastity
given over to lyrical lovers
Sleeping quietly in the meadows
a pristine area free of squatters
fighting for their rights
with sonnet-crafted homes
and hamlets defined by literature.
Straying away from the norm
acolytes watch as castles are built,
that worships orderly expression
poetic masterpieces,
safeguarded and preserved at all times
metaphors align into a specific subset
pictures look like works of art,
there is a distinct realm
for those unfit to fly in their confines.
Outside of the norm
is a vast nebulous
growing quill flowers from seeds sown
the power of smell to evoke memories,
which one's brain may elect to ignore
when settling at a location of a specific form
is what one's words must imply.
On this trip, there are no rules,
only that burning desire inside
strive to harass the page,
fire getting into the core
from telling someone a mystery,
till the key bares the chest
where other ideas demand rebirth.
1st Place Contest Winner
Written: August 28, 2022
Free Verse - Old Or New Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
5th Place Contest Winner
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
~Artistic Touch~
Go down on my thoughts
taste my perception
Touch me in all non
physical ways
I need what is considered
to be the exception
Show my heart colors
in brilliant arrays
Give me artistic
orgasms in multiple
Let enlightenment drip
from my ears
Others may find it to be
incomprehensible
Don't let touch be
what interferes
XXXX
A bookworm me..believe myself to be artistic, reflective, compassionate, spiritual.
Sister of Tamal, an artist and a poet...inspired by the talents of my brother.
Love to vision three goals accepted by the world - women empowerment, justice for all, equal opportunities for children.
I feel grateful, blissful, content with what I am born with.
I do fear direct confrontation, dealing with rudeness and unfairness, afraid of losing my musical voice.
I would like to enjoy flowers dancing in the wind, emerald waves lapping on the sandy beach, waterfalls cascading on coral rocks.
A proud resident of multi-cultural Mississauga, a vibrant city in Ontario.
My last name - Ray - easy to spell and pronounce.
Delightful voices of my children I miss,
Chattering, giggling around me - crave for that bliss
At evening dinner, feel sad to see empty chairs,
Except when joyful celebrations are in the air!
For some reason, I feel especially vindicated
Learning recently that I won’t be syndicated,
I know many of my dear family are titillated
Since they are of my readers most dedicated.
In my writings, over the years, I’ve indicated
That with superb honors I’ve been inundated,
Still, I’ve made every effort to be insulated,
Although lately I’ve been rather stimulated
And, for the most part, yes, entirely pixilated;
That is, when I am not totally inebriated!
written December 20, 2021
light penetrated dark, sound birthed
the Word ~ p o e t r y
a superlative emitting that which changes
emerging when ripened as verse
speaking to people faraway
unlocking alphabets from minds
to glide, fast fly, jump or slowly crawl, landing
at destined places, swords or aces
I am Poetry ~ weep or whimper not for me
existentially dancing, enthralling, glancing at
blank paper to be embroidered in ink
ruby red, black or olive green
free flow I from fingers fragile, artistic or sturdy
regulate me only for joy or exploring expansion
perhaps for judicious judgement
I, P o e t r y ~ sequins of Love convoluted or rayed, in service
purifying emotive sentiments conditioned, romantic, missioned
Heart is my home where rest my letters, forms
cadences, couplets, epics
in non-bewildered intelligence visioning dreamscapes
divine, liberated from bandages, buckles, bondages
alive is my Supersoul breath giving voice to electrons
protons, neutrons which fleetingly capture
essenced life through observed elixirs
as Poetry, I witness action followed by pure
stillness ~ transcendental whirlpools in orbits
my limbs reach language lyrical or plain
burnished and wise
cherishing recitals in sacred spaces
I activate thoughts and visions remaining
supremely unattached attuning words
for Grace ~
undulate imagination in perfect waves
misty, clear or intricate, intriguing, unblemished
gratifying, swivelling, sizzling in my own
fire or ice
I, Poetry, consummated
voice the W o r d
the poetic pen
backs to life to write itself
meditative friend
-March 13, 2019 Chattogram
Masterful paint strokes of his artistic hand.
Should use zinnias or roses that are banned?
Decides upon an honored verdant ginger jar
Muse stirs up imagination from afar
Maestro’s every keystroke magnificently planned.
Masterful paint strokes of his artistic hand
Waiting now for proud pink zinnias to come to life
The lovesick artist paints them for his lovely wife
Painting will be revered for hundreds of years
This knowledge might well reduce Verster to tears
Masterful paint strokes of his artistic hand,
Ginger jar intelligently feathered and fanned.
Wife adored this one, thought it was his best.
Her enthusiasm was not a real test.
Artist gritted up paint with particles of sand
Masterful paint strokes of his artistic hand.
I adore the individualism of the artistic soul
because if it is inspired
high levels of divine information can be reached
for example:
sometimes, when I am composing in Piano
I feel like I am communicating with God
or when I am writing Poetry perhaps
Whatever the case is,
the dualism of life is not just apparent
people devote themselves to mundane goals
to reaching the approval of others
when true art burns in the heart
when death comes and things and fame don't matter
have we found, who we really are?
ARTISTIC
Aspired
Really did.
To be your woman
Involved myself
Suppose to have loved you.
Two worlds apart
Is this because of one-sided love?
Conclusion is we are not one.
|______________________________________________|
Penned on October 30, 2014!
[New Poetry Form - Acrostic Verse Drama/Dramatic Verse]
. “The Artistic Style-lings of a Synthetic Cubist”
Friends help scratch
Harlequins
itch
SECOND PLACE WINNER 6-25-09
Pablo Picasso’s “Three Musicians”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three_Musicians
Entered in Brian Strands “Septimal Fun Contest"
(itch) refers to his musical aptitude
Marble hatched haven communes; helixicly hewn canvas' brushed within
Acidulous acrylics of adumbrated conjectual forms....
Spawn tipped dippings upon the collateral cliffs edging these, layaway hues?!
Deciphered shades in monochrome pitch pigments beneath the jaded jejunes
Manic manifestations, over-looking the colourant gangrene valley below
While as maritime merchants lifted from the pedagogue palettes of
Row your boats....
Climb their municipal born mast in marauds malice from afar
Signaling unto the watchtower through their Socratic spyglass optics
Inceptions intruder, standing tall and coming ashore; red rum....
...."Hurry, someone save the Queen!?"
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Rembrants lost rocking chair moment in, artistic meritime manifestations ~
Note: Smile ~ I thought that I would offer up a bit of hopeful ice-breaking
and light-hearted humour upon this glorious and lovely "New Years Day" ~
Smile ~ "My 'Love & Warmth,' Always," John!:) ~ Ps. "En' Si Viod" ~