Best Expressionist Poems
By a faceless crowd,
I was surrounded.
- “Beautiful.”
He called out to me.
I was petrified by how I was described by him.
I was witty and radiant.
I was poised - bliss.
I was a hardened heart yet full-grown.
I was lost within sacred evergreens,
feverishly writing
in the darkness
- alone.
Conveying his selfish fantasies of beauty,
in such dreadful ways,
- still - I held him in.
Even within the pain,
and the awe,
I held him that close.
I was consumed,
embarrassed,
but pondering it all.
Somewhere far from my mother's favorite pond,
I was feeling powerless
to the calming waves of emotion.
An expressionist,
- I was.
But, was I beautiful..?
Wild are the spring flowers which win my heart
wood violets blue, and those Johnnie jump-Up starts
waves of ajunta burgundy glow
pierced with lost daffodils standing apart
a gourmands delight admired a la carte
'mong seas of forsythia fences are draped.
Bushes of fuzzywillows looking smart,
cozy up to dirt roads soften the heart.
even the dandelions make a fine tableaux
as off I go my head spinning with art
to paint images, the sweet and the tart
expressionist posies, as if for VanGogh.
Indian strawberries dot gardens in beds
as buttercups yellow, slip through rye grass
tickled by warm winds and skies overcast.
Oh, I'm ready to paint the beauty ahead
with crimson, vermilion and titanium lead.
Sitting on a hummock I draw the repast
mixing my colors on a piece of glass
stunned by the wild flowers, most over tread.
*Dante's variation on the Italian sonnet.
Louis
Tiffany
artiste nouveau-
art-by-absorpion was
his theme
ahead
of his time-
a controlled accident,
hand-made favrile,free formed,
design
Louis Tiffany considered by Pollock & Motherwell as an early exponent of pure form & colour
in art
http://www.hyndburnbc.gov.uk/hag
largest public collection of Tiffany glass in Europe. Haworth art Gallery ,Accrington England
An orgy of creation, an elixir of
extreme emotions ,birth pangs of
the aberrant in esoteric diction
hear me recite from my 4100+ PS anthology on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro..
catch my short forms @strandppet on twitter..
read my kindle guides on amazon
My dream..
a scream
see Munch painting for more
I used to get heartfelt thanks
I used to get honest words.
Maybe sometimes I'm too frank
and I apologize for everytime I curse.
Where did all the people go?
All the people who felt my words in their bones.
Where did all the people go?
Maybe you think I write just for me.
Maybe you think I type it all up just to see
my own words on my own computer screen.
I guess I thought you related to me.
Imagined I wrote your feelings for you when it wasn't easy.
Thought I had some sort of impact/effect.
I was wrong, it was just a crazy dream.
Where did all the people go?
I'm still here, writing away.
Sometimes you respond with a "nice write, keep it up"
and sometimes I think I'll just give this *crap* up.
Where did all the people go?
I miss you, come back?
Even if you disagree
write me, tell me how you really feel...
shifts of style
melted &hazy
surround a
centrepiece-
harbinger of
clarity&balance:
an opulent
fantasy
of animated
elements
to the manner
born
EXPRESSIONIST PHRASIS
Dreams that carry distant memories,
mirrors of the soul in harmony,a wish
to be profound with things from the
psyche,imagination abandoned by reason.
At work within a metaphysical act of
creation,for & of itself unfolds as a surprise
an infusion of soul& spirit,the night
within myself.To convey this essence of
life in flowing abstract forms which
revolve & interlock to make reality
visible.Apparent old truths in a new
light,allegories not portraits,liberate
my sensitivity with moments of the
past that can never remain still and
never be exchanged for earthly treasure
from Expressionist writings & quotations
Listen to me read this phrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro