Exhibition Poems - Poems about 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,...

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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...

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Squirrel's Exhibition taking all its course in swift acrobatic feats wind’s walnuts heist Feb. 1,2022 7.33pm...

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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...

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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...

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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 ...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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, ...

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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...

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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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