Long Artlove Poems
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Running cracks of lead flaked paint, spiders across the front door like a grandfather's
forehead.
Its hinges squeal from years of inattention and forgotten maintenance
Floor boards moan a song of dismemberment and forgotten age
While musty gloom thickens the air – inhibiting, restricting, compressing breaths
Entrance ways lead to hallways which culminate and connect enclosed spaces,
hovering in an atmosphere of haunt and mourn
Conversations linger, echoing within walls of dine and feast
settings arranged from ritual –
two plates,
two bowls,
two cups,
two knives,
two spoons,
two forks,
two napkins,
two chairs,
with only voice and ephemeral trace.
Twisted unleveled stairs, escalate to second stories
letters to love and hate cover ancient mourning boards.
Segmented space divides the infant from maturation.
Cracked spine, chipped rails, exposing the wooden crib core
Superficial angst and rage characterizing the infant's facade,
yet delicate love exposed in clean white linens pressed and laid in perfection
sets the bedding stage for stuffed bears and embroidered blankies
Toppled bookcase defecates bound knowledge across adult wooden bed frame
disheveling sheets, rugs, and right angles,
its half fallen posture exposes entrance way to hidden passages.
Between walls, moving slow as not to catch thread to exposed nail, pipe, or wire
shoulders grazing support beams, pace entranced by flattening florescence bulbed ceilings
Each step enclosing space tighter and tighter
Climax turns to anticlimax as exit opens to
a hermetic cell of textural paint echoing skin blotched and boiled.
Surrounding walls of tattered gold, ulcer red and puss filled purple,
each based with blotched skin.?Encircles full length mirror exposing views of deceased
discomfort –
Black glass glows within frame of ornate wood
spiking and curling with baroque transcendence
Reflecting back a ghost of future deceased persona.
The nine muses
Daughters of Zeus
Inspiring of mortals
And nurturers of the arts
The first was,
The divine Calliope,
Beautiful-voiced,
Was the muse of the epic poets
A writing tablet in her hand
Calliope was Homer's muse
Inspiration for the Iliad
Divine influence of the Odyssey
The second was,
The divine Clio
The maker of fame,
Was the muse of history
A parchment scroll in her hands
Clio was the proclaimer
The third was,
The divine Erato,
Desired and lovely,
Was the muse of the lyric poets
A golden arrow in her hand
Muse of love verse
And of Erotic poetry
Erato the muse who charms the sight
And inspires love in everybody
The fourth was,
The divine Euterpe,
Rejoicing well,
Was firstly the muse of music
Then of Lyrical poetry
A double flute in her hand
Euterpe the Giver of delight
The fifth was,
The divine Melpomène,
The one that is melodious,
Was firstly the muse of singing
To celebrate with dance and song
Then she became the muse of tragedy
And hid behind a tragic mask
A knife or club in her hand
Creator of beautiful lyrical phrases
Melpomène muse of Horace
The sixth was,
The divine Polyhymnia,
The one of many hymns,
Was the Muse of sacred poetry and sacred hymns
Of eloquence and pantomime
In her long cloak and classical pose
Polyhymnia was a serious, pensive and meditative muse
The seventh was,
The divine Terpsichore,
Delight of dancing,
Muse of choral songs and dance
A lyre in her hand
Accompanies the dancers
Terpsichore muse of dance
Mother of the sirens
The eighth was,
The divine Thalia,
Flourishing, in bloom,
Was the muse of comedy and idyllic poetry
A comic mask in her hand
The praises of Thalia, rustic goddess
And in her songs flourish through time
The ninth and final was,
The divine Urania,
Heavenly muse,
Was the muse of astrology
A globe in her hand
Dressed in a cloak embroidered with stars
Urania was reader of the stars
Form:
Sometimes love just isn’t enough
Art is our way home to finding ourselves
We were blindfolded ballerinas. Swaying to the rhythm of our hearts breaking. We tippy
toed across a tight rope, looking for some sort of answer from dangerous lovers, like hope.
She the tigress and I the poetess brought together by similar circumstance
Oxycontin madness
With men who constantly chased after their addiction.
Placing importance over their next fix over our happiness.
We were resilient, goddesses of patience
Two ships, headed towards the rocky shore, we ignored the guidance of the lighthouse. We
used our hearts as and emotions to navigate blindly Feeling through the darkness.
Your mind will always be illuminating, when it is the darkest.
Wearied travellers....
Of Love.... and Life. Let the wind carry you through the pain like a kite.
Grab onto your easels like a lifeline. Your paintbrush will be your escape, with each
brush stroke. Simple little joy, a hug when you need it for your ego
Art is the essence of self love......so love yourrrrrrrrr self.
Let your soul take a walk,
Your mind will be your deliverance to freedom, unlocking the key to your eternal kingdom.
Press the paint between your palms, become one with the medium.
Our poetry is the closet thing to Touching god.
Allah, Buddha, Jesus Christ, Ishvara, Yahweh, and all the Hindu dieties
I worship thee on my KNEES for enlightening me, granting the gift of this serenity
We are the Irises that still flourish after the avalanche
Diamond thick skin Heroines
we write...........................
To set off a bouquet of explosively delicious fireworks, in the creation of our thoughts
Exploding magnificent technicolours into the deep recesses of our minds
Completely liberated from our insecurities
We press our pens together like swords , all for one and one for all
An everlasting oath to protect what we lost
Our artistic Souls
Form:
Cotton, blood and nerves
Summed up, that's about the extent
No eternal flames flicker six feet above
clouds still shiftless
those beams that carry angles didn’t even shine down
No purpose or place
just a common face
See
there I go trying to impress with clever subtlety
a choice of uncanny words you may bring up on cold nights alone
I’ll be the ghost in the game
spelling out obscenities on a ouji board
The poltergeist has spoken
it excreted nonsense with a pen filled to the top with invisible ink
cheap bastard can’t even afford to write in blood
Zero accolades at this juncture
No love for the dead guy anymore
just rubber bracelets, salt and water
No love for the dead guy at all
a makeshift cross placed lopsided against a median
No love for the dead guy
he made damn sure that it turned out this way
Remember to forget me
it’s the only certainty of my memory at all
it’s all I have when the dirt gets shoveled over this dead guy
the only way to comfort my fall
The crimson light is fading from the day
The coolness spreads catching life in its sway
This bewitching time of the night as I walk through
My search ends when I am close to you
Love is at its zenith tonight
As together we are
Brings rest for the soul of this wanderer
We’ve come this far
And love is at its zenith tonight
The tired soul at rest
My belief in God’s might
Our love and warmest nest
Love teaches, the soul must learn
That trust and belief will turn
The blossoming winds which blows outdoors
And catch and keep it in the hearts of mine and yours
Love is at its zenith tonight
As together we are
Brings rest for the soul of this wanderer
We’ve come this far
And love is at its zenith tonight
The tired soul at rest
My belief in God’s might
Our love and warmest nest
Inspired by the lyrics of Elton John’s song “Can you feel the love tonight”
Arched bridge across the pond
Inviting to cross into a dream
A dream of seeing the reflections
Of the beautiful weeping willow
Gray bridge do I dare cross
Over to the other side to meet
My love, the love of my life
The soul mate for which I long
To sit close to him reaching
Into the pond and feel the lilies
Soak in the color..wedding white
With velvet green leaves
Should I stay, waiting for him
To call to me, then cross over
Your sturdy boards that are gray
From time and many crossings
Listen I hear my love
He calls arise come my love
Come refresh yourself from life
Feast on the beauty of lilies
Go I must into the dream
To refresh in his love my king
(Written after viewing Claude Monet's Water-Lily Pond- Symphony in Green)
Sponsor:Heather Ober
Contest: Famous Art