Exhibition Poems - Poems about Exhibition

The Postmodernist Exhibition

Last night's storm
has left its artwork on the beach,
a postmodernist exhibition 
of brown seaweed strewn in clumps 
like hair on a barbershop floor,
broken seashells 
and a fallen rainbow of plastics 
strung out along the shore
where now an exhausted sea
licks the leftovers of a meal.

Chaos has been distilled down
to washed up artifacts 
and red bottle caps,

Spring Exhibition

Written: April 20, 2024

                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dappled gold shimmers in spring—wake us,
A vibrant vroom, with azaleas and crocus. 
Light beams teasingly stroke gossamer leaf,
A concerto of nature—vow for nexus of relief.

Flurries of

Squirrel Exhibition

Squirrel's Exhibition


taking all its course
in swift acrobatic feats
wind’s walnuts heist


Feb. 1,2022   7.33pm

I Don'T Like Exhibition Speakers

Join eloquent words is tempting task
invite them to your show is pure pride
demonstrate of wisdom is not talent
is total arrogance and contempt for others
is preaching without being blessed
is wanting to be greater than humanity.
and does not elevate anyone to holiness
 even  not allow anyone with God be right
still allows digging breaches of hell's path

Is It Art - the Critics On the Exhibition

The reviewers considered his latest exhibition:
They said it was cutting edge
They said it defies all perception
The exploration of the negative spaces challenges the mind
Some said mind blowing
Some said life changing
The still life quality was shattering
Wonderful and interesting use of the media
At times parts seemed to be borrowed from the impressionists
but with great discretion and reflecting

Walking Into An Art Exhibition Outside

A long street closed
     To all traffic
     Time for a sale
     From all the stores
     On this long street

     Tables just outside
     Items on display
     For everyone

A Sporting Poetic Exhibition

Today West Ham Went Berserk 
And Bournemouth Lost Its Shirt 
No Need for A Cover 
Since Jason Was Sent Home to His Mother 

So Far, Its Four 
That the Hammies Have Scored 
This Will Put A Little Space 
In the Stay Out of Relegation Race 

A New Coach Is Here In Spirit 
And The Supporters

Pictures At An Exhibition

Pictures at an Exhibition

I recently saw the ghosts of beat poet visionaries
staring lonely, from pictures at an exhibition
Ginsburg, Corso, Snyder, Kerouac, and Cassady
the murderer’s row of the desolation angels line-up
smoking cigarettes on dingy New York fire escapes
eyes squinting into the brutal mid-day sun of Tangiers
chanting Buddhist mantras in Golden Gate Park
posed with arms around each

Curator's Exhibition

Eyes do speak.
It's funny how they perceive the things around.
The broken conversations heard by fully complexed ears.
I believed that I'd be ok.
The conclusions that eyes draw.
Never making sense of the words heard.
I believed it to be my biggest mistake.
Falling for the beautiful images seen.
Following sight, my first love.
Pain is often beautiful, layered one color after

Exhibition Unknown

Ever watch Exhibition Unknown with Josh Gates
Uncovering ancient cities with treasures that await
His sense of humor
Makes him shrewder
Than many, he's a natural as our souls he elevates

Exhibition

Manifesting the Love of God, 
Moving with of authority the rod, 
on atemporal  life laying hold. 


showing forth his Glory, 
in the Holy Ghost making history, 
casting away all worry...... 


Author : Luckson Mupakamiso

Picasso Exhibition

we r at the picasso exhibition
i love him studied him
the naked art now
here
going through periods
blue pink delving into
cubical geometry
of figures violins
my heart is leaping with
joy
gigantic voluptuous
art on marie teres
crying sharp vagina of
dora
they were cracking jokes
we were beginning to finish
my heart is full and i was weeping
they asked me
who is picasso
your father?
i cried harder

Initial Impression of Art Exhibition

I ogled through the open Atelier,
  And chance into a spacious grotto,
  Wanting to carry out an exploration of voodoo kingdom,
  I made a pact with my kinetic limbs,
  On they ride and halt at interval
  Introducing to the eccentric phantasmagoria sheen;
  The jaunty strokes dance on sheet nondescript,

Requiem (Instrument Exhibition)

This museum is a mausoleum
The stench of decay assaults you at the door
Permeates your clothes, your skin
And sinks into the floor

Clear coffin cabinets
Proudly present their dead
For the private pleasure of public eyes
In decorative death shrouds they sleeping lie
In oak and iron beds

An entomologist’s dream
Preserved and pinned back tight
Neat little labels
Green felt canvas, dim light

An orchestra

Our Lives Are An Exhibition

For the carpenter it is his hammer and saw,
for the artist, his brush and paint.
And it is God who makes us all in all
as He brings forth His gifts in the saint.

For the preacher it is his pulpit and bible,
for the writer, his paper and pen.
All of our lives are an exhibition
with His message to

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