Best Portrait Poems
Let me paint you like a summer’s day,
Upon luscious landscapes where lovers play…
With oils of Celestial Blue and Carmine Red,
Cherry Blossom Pink with a Saffron spread.
Brushing spectrums of the radiant rainbows,
With Lava lips against the maternal meadows…
Caressing with colors amidst the curative canvas,
Sculpting your smile from a vestal vastness.
Let me paint you like the magnanimous moon,
Within Twilight realms where lovers cocoon…
Where the heavens display their starry nights,
Amongst lovers dreams with great delights.
Let me paint you under a Spanish Sky Blue,
With a dash of Spring Green in the misty dew…
As the frolicking flowers dance to the sun,
My portrait of love in a floral spiraling spun.
Written & produced by... Winged Warrior
Music by...Bach-'C major prelude'
Voice...Male virtual voice
...please wait 33 seconds before the poem is recited
...the poem will also be repeated in the video production
...thank you for viewing and enjoy the rest of the music
May.13.2019
Winged Warrior...^WW^
Not for any contest
Thank you, everyone, for the lovely comments...and for making this video poem, POTD...'mucho gracias'...^WW^
Paint me blue like the sky
rainbow's smile; thunder's cry
clouded curtains rife with rain
till shroud is lanced and bluebirds fly again
Wistful moods in mahogany frames
melancholy painters with undiscovered names
rearrange reveries in pastel hues
decorating lonely walls with brooding blues
Paint me emerald like the sea
feeling caged; rolling free
stormy rage; morning calm
who knows where swelling waves come from?
Which shades best record a personality?
Which side of the coin is preserved for history?
Shall I smile or appear dignified?
Do I show my true self, or try to hide?
Paint me tawny like a lark
as the sky dissolves to dark
flying free but not for long
a gloomy gloaming swallows up its song
What do you see as I hold this pose?
Will you reveal or conceal my imperfect nose?
Will you paint scars and wrinkles or leave no trace?
Will your biography in oils show lines on my face?
Paint me crystalline like a wine glass
for you somehow see right through
the paintbrush captures the epidermis
but the painter overlays the spirit
Superimposing your style, passions, heartbreaks, joie de vivre
onto my facets, form, features, and flaws
with love, you labor on
transforming my brief life into a lasting work of art
Paint me gold like a sunrise
as it marks the dark's demise
background wash of faith, hope, love;
the colors life's palette is made of.
When bones are one with graveyard soils
these memories preserved in oils
are saved for those who later come
that they may know where they've come from
written 1 Sep 2022
...with gratitude for all the inspired artists who
carry forward the grand tradition of portraiture.
Each element of who she is, is scattered on the grass,
with the scent of earth, the drop of rain,
where dew reflects a sky of blue.
Her senses are illuminated to harmonize within,
with a howling wolf, a roaring bear, the song of evening wind
She walks within a dreamlike world, which cannot be defined.
This puzzle we have come to know has no border, nor an end.
When life begins, a tiny seed, is strewn, tossed from the vine,
and picks up speed on feathered wing and touches the divine.
She is daughter of the autumn, and mother of the spring.
Her euphonious legend, an extraordinary thing.
It passes through the blossomed branch of all the sprouted trees.
She is young at heart, and old with drought,
she is strong, and bold, without a doubt, is stalwart through the night.
Standing proud against the darkness, and the sins of those who mar,
her spirit is unbroken, by the scars of bitter blight.
She honors creatures with respect, where unison is found,
with all things wild, whether large or small, ...for every life is gold.
Her songs are as a journey, and frolic in the breeze.
There is prowess and a valor in her lavished synchronies.
Her flute will share her story, in the sound of lonely larks,
of loss, rebirth, of drifting sands, and sweet hours after dark
For yesterday creates today, with a promise for tomorrow.
When songs are played, it can bring us hope, in the laughter of the birds.
Each whisper of a clearer sky, will gently cleanse the smoke,
and buffalo will graze again, the tall green grass will wave again.
The golden sun will rise again, to warm her every word
____________________________________________________________________
10/22/14 Inspired by Contest sponsored By Debbie Guzzi
Resubmitted for Skat's Contest "Premiere Number 7"
He cloaked her skin
with a dark silk gown
made of tattered wings
neath the hunter' skies
He covered her hair
with a mourning veil
Upon her face
his hands did play
Mysteriously
the vacant gaze
the secret pains
His brush did paint
the monaliza's eyes
upon her lips
he carved a smile
with no expressions
nor expectations
of what one is to behold
Enigmatic, Suffocating
Secret whispers still untold
Ghostly mist will keep on lingering
in the silence of her soul
There she stares
from the old portrait
Would somebody let her go?
He stares
He ponders
Was this the girl who entered his dream?
Did he paint her pain?
Was she the same?
Lush lips that couldn't smile
Sullen eyes that couldn't lie
telling of strife
unable to bloom
sheltered from the light
Futures slowed
Hopes dashed
Dreams crushed
Was he to save her?
Thoughts echoed in his mind
Is he her savior?
Her mystery?
Her hero?
Will he fly to her side?
Will he be her star that shines?
Listen closely
the portrait calls
save me, come save me
~
“Pristine your pose, exposed artistic allure”
Canvas on easel waits patiently,
naked in formless thought
Inviting rapture’s brush strokes
“White on white destined pleadings”
Visions engulf watercolor yearnings
blending passion’s tints…
Seductive bristled breaths fall
“Soft curves fill unframed desires”
Orchid skin seeps semi-gloss wishes,
hues of fire fed glazing
Smooth along tender tan lines
“Valleys of bliss penetrate oiled needs”
Mahogany eyes captivate,
portals shimmering silently,
beckoning in secretive glances
“Seductive palettes draw on my sight”
Crimson lips in a whimpered pout,
satin pillowed arching designs
whisper me my dreams
“Their touch breaks my will”
As I paint you, I linger in lust
Overwhelmed by your beauty,
falling helplessly into this masterpiece
“And we become one via art”
Saturated in drop cloth drippings,
sighs of fevered temptations rise
releasing abstract movements
“Acrylic serenity, vibrant achings”
Melting in chromatic motion,
collapsing among over-sprayed delirium,
embracing flowing iridescent endings
“Lost forever in a portrait of love”
That pensive look on her sweet face
Just like a child of mine.
Her eyes seem to follow you with
Dominion that's divine.
Northwest light on soft blush hued cheeks
Her grey-green eyes lay bare
Perhaps a secret rendezvous
In enigmatic stare.
Wet lips stained as if with cherries
Delft blue scarf hides her hair...
In penchant blossom of her youth
Portrait of beauty rare.
From her left ear hangs gracefully
One solitary pearl.
Melancholy hints, she may be
A woman, yet a girl.
May 3, 2017
Note:
Johannes Vermeer's 'Girl with a pearl earring'
c.1665 Mauritius Museum, The Hague.
The Dutch artist was born in Delft in 1632-1675.
One of the key paintings in Vermeer's oeuvre,
this portrait resists all attempts at the precise
identification of the sitter. It's charm, perhaps,
lies in the fact that it is an evocative expression
of timeless female beauty. I viewed this masterpiece
in 2009. She has the entire wall to herself.
An Autumn Portrait of Beauty
On this quite beautiful and most radiant Autumn day,
I marvel at Mother Nature’s smile of silent pulchritude,
As I make a loving glance at such luscious scenery today,
In this country scene—a glorious gift of God’s certitude!
The trees and their fallen amber leaves adorn this Earth,
As a shimmering reflection pervades from a green pond,
Of Nature’s wonder with colors arrayed in a sacred rebirth,
Affirming God’s heavenly promise true and His holy bond!
This view of trees, grass, leaves, and a shadow near the pond,
Captures the glory and grace from God’s colored-palette a true,
That affirms His desire of rendering this beauty from beyond,
And I thank Him from my heart with joy and blessings so true!
Yes, God doth paint this world with such love for all to see,
His Autumn portrait here is of unparalleled artistry and grace,
That I interpret as a heavenly-made moment for all of us to be,
As I reaffirm the beauty of Nature’s gift in this wondrous place!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
November 6, 2015 (Rhyme)
Author’s Note: A special tribute to a former classmate.
Behold, oh my beloved!
Is there a hidden care
you would like to share,
with your not so gentle gaze?
Repudiating caducity,
your eyes portray
sustained excitement ~
still and restrained
whilst behind you
an arabesque of phantasmagorical
make-believe.
Behold, oh my beloved
the vortex of colours
surrounding you
entwine a paradigm
of that starry night~
and as i look into its cosmic glow
I fall in love with you.
22 May 2022
A Briand Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
6th Place
Notes:
Like Rembrandt and Goya, Vincent van Gogh often used himself as a model; he produced over forty-three self-portraits, paintings or drawings in ten years. Like the old masters, he observed himself critically in a mirror. Painting oneself is not an innocuous act: it is a questioning which often leads to an identity crisis.
( Credits: Google Arts and Culture)
PORTRAIT OF SUSAN C.
If you glance at Susan
Three days in a row
same pose
same tilt of head
same diverted eyes
brows raised
firm round lips
She says something different
Each ardent flip
I suppose it’s the passionate red dress –
how it hangs in perfect V
only a suggestion of feminine property
how it further urges her tinted ivory skin
Oh! And the long sleeves –
how they paint those meaningful
finger slims
Yes!
The dress –
It quite overcomes
Well Susan is blond
Really blond –
long-hair-hanging blond –
It sweeps round her ears
To frame a coquettish-near smile
She’s fair enough for movie fame
Yet?
Take the expression away
And…well…
It’s back to the dress for a while
Oh there’s so much movement
In those hanging folds –
none the same –
So much suggestion
Even softness
satin flame
Ummm humm… hmmmm
To end though
The whole is T-Susan
The ever notorious tease –
the come-on
slight show of flesh
those white clear eyes
of kidney pool blue
Damn! lady!
Pity the poor sap
Runs into you
Dave Austin
She floats into a room and voices hush,
the silence at effulgence in her bloom,
as crimson rises to her cheeks in blush
to humble scarlet gardens and their plume.
The gown in velvet bides her every curve,
smooth bight of rivers on to ocean's sway
that in such pastel presence do observe
how her translucence rivals light of day.
Though gentle white alyssum may surround
while saffron bloom the jonquils in their wake,
her coif in glinting chestnut is thus crowned
as alder trees beside an autumn lake.
A memory in oil is all she leaves,
but luster as in life she still achieves.
I took this family portrait yesterday as we walked along the beach…
our entire family could not make it…
some were sleeping…
others out of reach…
But I noticed through the camera lens as in the sand I knelt
even the family members who were absent…
their presence could be felt.
I don’t know how it happens
but when I take a picture of my family…
I swear
I see the people in the picture frame…
and the ones who are not there.
Which makes every family photo…
a reason to give thanks…
as my eyes look at the picture
while my heart fills in the blanks…
So once again I smiled as I snapped this picture…
suddenly filled with but one thought
how my entire family is always with me…
whether they’re with me…
or they’re not.
I am one breathtaking moment
I am one who is lost or alone
I am one raindrop, or one flowering rose
I am a distant star or a meadow lark
Or one dark cloud that hovers on the horizon
I am many memories from a long ago childhood
I am many tears and many sorrows
I am many rainbows and many seasons
I am many reasons to sing a love song
Or tell a story, or share the laughter, or feel the glory
I am all the colors of our world
I am all races, all creeds, the scattering of seeds
I am all words unfurled into the light
I am all the broken hearts and hopes lost in the night
I am all the hurt, all the anger, all the joy, all the love
I am all who believe in God above
I am all who doubt, thereof
I am all who laugh, and sing, and wail and shout
I am unleashed with wild emotion
I am heartbreak, and devotion
I am humble, I am proud
Soft as a whisper, the shape of a cloud
I am the stepping stone to healing
I renew by sharing feelings
I am a few unbroken rules, a few enchanting jewels
I am the ember, I am the spark
----------- the poet in "me" who dreams in the dark
~
----------- but this is the real "me" who schemes in the dark
I am the neighbor, who brings you soup
I am a tomboy, I am a friend
I'll lend an ear if you are troubled
My favorite food might be ice cream
A double scoop, I beg you please?
I'll bathe the dog, I give good hugs
I rub their backs when they are ill
Good music fills my eyes with tears
Love hula hoops. Loops in my ears
Toss a ball into a hoop and ride a horse, (I have for years)
I like to wear my denim jeans, occasionally I'll wear my lace
Brunette, of hair, my mother's face
I make mistakes....... I won't forsake you
Don't buy me a crown, I'm not a queen
But I am keen on my clean house
I'll not judge you...don't hold a grudge
My husband declares that I'll not budge
But I can make some awesome fudge
I'm small in size......my eyes are blue
I'm not a prize..I'll blow a fuse
I thrive on loving, I'll love you too
And I can fix most things with glue
I can stretch a dime, make old things new
I love antiques and have a few
I've paid my dues.....with ups and downs
One ordinary girl........from one small town
This may be more than you want to know
But that's scoop, ..... I'll say adieu ....!
______________________________________
For Frank's Contest: Self-Portrait
Dark chocolate eyes that smile with glee
Laugh lines that only enhance his goatee
Blessed with pearly whites
That gives good love bites
I'm drawn to his mustache like a queen bee
Dark brown hair off sets creamy white skin
Tall and slim, his physique makes me grin
A sculpted nose so fine
Sensual lips so divine
It's a good thing that handsome is not a sin
Long arms embrace me and hold me tight
Perfect ears that are aligned just right
Sexy arched eyebrows
That get me aroused
Blush on his cheeks after an ardent night
Looks and passion a small part of his traits
Smart and kind, he's been blessed by the fates
Witty, fun and sweet
He is without conceit
The love we have, makes us great soul mates
21/ 04/ 2013
For Frank H's contest
A man examines his portrait in life
The life he leads ennui dulls his desires
A wanton spirit crying through his strife
Pity him not if of this life he tires
His life was short, he careth not its end
He lived it all, he dreams no more or will
No dregs of life to taste no hearts to mend
He longs for sleep no more to drink life’s fill
A battle not fought, a love not lost, why?
No one to share his dreams, his poetry
Until an answer to his unheard cry
Words of love awoke and told a story
Now love gives hope and awaits his firm grasp
True love, a deep love that ever will last.
© 10/1/2014 GG
A man with a creative dream
On an arid afternoon
Admiring God's creation
Relaxing in the sunlight
With his cowboy hat
Giving him a little shade
Watching the cumulus clouds
Shading the desert wasteland
Captured all by the artistic eyes
Of a man named T. C. Cannon
Inspired by Abe's
Native American Ekphrasis