Long Canvasses Poems
Long Canvasses Poems. Below are the most popular long Canvasses by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Canvasses poems by poem length and keyword.
she is alive dreaming
limbs like serpents growing
an embryonic adult on board sprawling
spawned
learning
she escaped a naked bed
her art stolen into law school
time decorates her shoulder
clocks tickling ticking
….
decorate her shoulder
always time and numbers
nipple oozes round innocence
lost are all her paintings past lives
her naked bed cold
canvasses half complete
entangled her limbs outlined in
blue
she dreams an illusionary future
in silk and law books
she
sleeps
awake
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Art piece : She is Sleeping : Iqraa Daniels
Oil on Board :30cmx41cm
Date: 2014
Style: Expressionism
Genre: Nude
Source : Private :
Pic at website : ghairodanielspresence.WordPress.com
Blog post : She is Sleeping :27/3/26
As with people
Art comes in all shapes
and sizes – colors and
shades, are the lenses
of distortion, while the lights
of revelation; textures are
our sniffing out, the soul like a
canine, on the scent of its
substance...
The novice starts with subject
or theme; while those more hearty
trust in the unseen Force of art –
stepping from its precipitous
ledge with mortal abandonment
free-falling, taken only pen
and brush in tow; pads, paints and
primed canvasses – all instruments of
of man's omnipotence
The Muse hollers, Nay!
While I say, work with me
or die, plummeting toward
the unforgiving bottom....
Broken Seashells,
canvasses of lobsters
tossed ashore by waves
are an open cemetery
with endless laments...
as green seaweeds
decorate them morbidly
if they were flowers!
I look around this beach
not frequented by a wanderer;
the strong stench of fish
is too unpleasant to sensitive noses,
but it's the perfect dinner
for those hungry gulls that swish
and land on their corpses!
Beer cans and water bottles
not disposed in nearby bins
attract rats with extreme hunger
and finding little, they chomp chasing after
the mackerels wiggling on the scorching sand;
oh, they happily feast on them and hiss...
keeping away the squeaking seagulls!
This abandoned beach once was
as pristine as the bluish water,
nobody littered it and people
walked barefoot seeking their favorite spots,
not getting cuts on fragmented seashells;
then hurricane Sandy came and left it desolate...
no souls returned to their homes,
and it became a ghost town forever...
and the few who stayed carried fright in their guts!
PIECES
Life is a puzzled piece
Striding to fix our scattered equation
We're all fixing our lives
Because none was plain & made on arrival
To this galaxy called Earth
We all came to fix our puzzle
Torn before the face of nature
Our canvasses are now congested
From childhood innocence
With painting and hating,
Broken hedges and images,
With letters and fetters,
With stains and pains,
With scooped sheets of artistic work;
The imperfections of an artist, mortality of man.
Life is like an art mirror;
Check yourself, draw, paint yourself,
Design yourself, scoop yourself or screw yourself.
If I was a scattered face of aesthetic being
Would you find me, would you fix me?
Life is hard enough but we're tough enough
Zeal and zest not cast off.
We will fix our scattered souls,
To sail through until fulfilment.
VickWizzy
Art personified: Vick AdeDayo Manuel
https://mobile.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10217584107147269&id=1615647097&set=gm.2745950698750583&refid=18&ref=opera_speed_dial&__tn__=EH-R
Written by: Vick Manuel {VMP}
Copyright © July 31st, 2017
When the sky rains down in jelly bean lights
Colors bright, multiplying themselves through lightning bolts
Seen through their candy cracks opened loud
Like clouded green glass glowing thick
Glowing wide jello wavering in a blinding flash
Across the landscape kissed
Happiness smooths over coconut sweet trees
Orange sugar slices take on a smile candy cotton
Hurried up above, going nowhere fast
Not in a frenzy or need for speed
Shapes of clouds in the breeze
Sun light yellow orange meanders
Rainbow bands on grand canvasses arrive
Bursts into life over new seeds landed sown as sugar cane
Plants shaped like trumpets sound crisp golden notes
In Spring they sway as delicacies
Fill up the sandy hills with syrup sweet aromas
Flavors melt
Melodies come sharp with deep dark chocolate
Swirl us into thick rich passions kiss caressed
Brings us to our knees
Keen to the taste of joy
Drums strike up a fever speaking from the heart
On the horizons wide smile as laughter caught
Between each beat comes sugary sweet breezes
Through fertile trees full of the reddest apples
Delicately lifted in deliciousness on Easter bliss
Confection powder converts grass into candy
Covers every misstep covered in the past by snow
Sensibility goes out the window falling over thrilled
Children trip over themselves, jump marshmallow high
A springboard to heaven gliding by
Just within the reach of kites made out of caramel popcorn
Babies also take a chance and reach with all their might
Jelly beans beaming lights touch the soul right to the core
Jump! Take every color candied treat
Before the streets drown them in water melons mouth
Swallow up the last sweet flavors drifting down
Jelly beaming lights roll in on thunder clouds
Placed 7th Premier Contest
sponsor : Rob Carmack
Sept. 2025
a scrawny piece of fluff
who pissed in the passage
not knowing whether you were
dog or baby boy
we rushed for a mop
your antibiotics were counted in
grains on the glass table with a needle
when you were not really very ill
just a mild runny tummy from
tasting a garden frog
then you curled between legs
below steering wheel waiting for
your treat from the mall
your growing spine stroked in
harmony with the road
you pressed your little nose to a
low window mistakenly locked
outside as you waited for
potato chips still not knowing
that you were not human
replacing empty spaces covering
cushions with smelly hair you grew
as quickly as a beanstalk
sturdy stocky soothing our aching
hearts for what was lost
paintbrushes and canvasses
with a cupboard full of clothes
was replaced with new
companionship, your love tightly
packed with territorial strength
we delightfully proud when you won
the ‘Pitbull Pedigree of the Year’
but you were prouder when your
Jill birthed six beautiful pups
your primordial blood oozing fulfillment
now your muscular agility
St. Michael loyal almond eyes
powerful jaws and outgoing
personality gives us mint
marjoram parsley abundance
in doggy humour and gratitude for
an experience of merging with tenacity
we taste your commanding ______love
in our herb smoothies ~
Behind a frozen glass window I peer,
but not for long despite the pending thunder,
to spur an inner gnawing gumption,
I turn a chilly doorknob,
with great stealth born of winters past,
sleet-ridden gusts, swaying tree leafs,
slippy patch awaits the reckless foot,
a shivering deep down voice whispered,
perils lurk for absent-minded strollers,
caution now encrusted in each limb,
weather warning, weather brave,
the imp within me teetering in jest,
will mine be an ice skater taunt?
As I absorb dark canvasses around me,
wondrous hint of moonlit snowflake,
silver white midair droop miracle,
blackbird silhouette on brittle twig,
nearby sudden dart and dash,
from orange-copper feline irises,
their intermittent shrill meow,
a stark punctuation mark,
Did I hear the rustle of a drawn curtain?
actioned by some enigmatic sleeper,
fearful of the hair-raising sound,
from passing traffic at such unearthly hours,
Was I shaken by those flickering lights?
in velvet shadow rooms engulfed by mystery,
yet this somber mood seasonal pantheon,
shall bemuse that haunted house,
that much sought after haunted shelter,
where a mind in nocturnal flight,
might somehow wander unseen
Her poems like childhood marbles
contain luminous coloured
feathery shafts sparkling sequins
scrutinise them in Light —- brain cells
will swing for each contain
revolving prisms exposing blings
— perceive verbal see-saws
to-fro before our corneas ——-
wisdom nuggets floating across
dimensions
free from historia
Not for shillings did Emily suffer
passings of close Beloveds
when her translucent Heart with
parachute mind were shredded
fine —- for this genius to grasp
that Death-Life is one golden
ring both could sting or sing
Choice is ours within The Voice
—— tools we grasp in centre palms
alms as canvasses to peruse
They tumble down …
Her laced snow-white garb
adorning spine erect an
Earth Angel in solitude inking
poem after poem
near a thousand and eight hundred
channeling for eternity ——
perceptions for mundane
humans to attain
Deep Love, politics, Nature
religion, law, Music did not escape
a lens widened then wizened from
unitary room on father’s fourteen
acre loom — like sentinels subjects
marched along whilst she zoomed
for thirty years
A l o n e
autistically
m i c r o s c o p I n g
her musing inner artist danced with
scientist swaying subtle moves —
—lashes signalling like butterfly
antennae high
probing the gamut of universal
themes …. Commerce, medicine
fashion - - round-abouting detailing
domestic activities to verse poetic
fondest blue jays receiving focus
sparrows, gnats —- NO THING
escaped her iris, yet not liberated
from longing tears of joy or sorrow
Emily stood moral !
______________________
Placed : First : Premier Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Sept. 26
A Gemini artist married to a Libra mathematician?
This will end badly, a relationship that defies regal ambition.
The naysayers laugh for we are opposite in many ways.
I can lose myself in my work and paint canvasses for days.
My libra mathematician likes statistics, it is his powerful tool.
I cannot understand algebra, statistics once made me a fool.
But we eat our beef, mashed potatoes with warm bread.
And we do not talk shop, so our marriage moves along ahead.
A Gemini artist married to a Libra mathematician is insane.
But we have been married for over fifty years so this is plain.
Although I despise math, and he does not cartoon, paint or sing.
We have many commonalities, and laugh at the same thing.
We raised three daughters who understood the beauty of this.
Depending upon the problem, they sought answers for their bliss.
Asking the Gemini when playing and whimsy was the answer they wanted.
If it was a logic question or a math problem, for Daddy they hunted.
Boring is the passing of idle time,
when the day is long and the sunset delays
to dim down the taciturn sky with less luminous lights;
clouds have full brightness and incredibly become
whiter and brighter than they actually are...
I am in a solitary mood dragging the hours!
Grannies sit outside closely and chat incessantly
as if they were whispering, are they shamelessly
telling each other the secrets of their youth that fled from time
as they kept them in those foolish and innocent hearts!
Are they bringing to mind those romantic affairs of naive girls?
Did they ever meet with their lovers in those secretive places?
grannies will chase away any intruder who seems to deride
their words and running from them Eddie falls on his butt,
but the furious grandma chases him a few more yards
screaming, " Go to play basketball with Grant! "
Too slow is the passing of idle time
by a river or by an ocean as if were there
to paint scenes on our empty canvasses,
deciding on shade and light according to taste
emotion and mood; is their little hope
for a masterpiece being displayed in a city museum...
but unexpectedly an offer may lift our set gloom!
How many stories could girls reveal
gathered as the grannies having none to do;
are we willing to share them as they do...
without being prudent or feel any shame?
Aren't love secrets hidden within the pages
of long letters never opened to sunlight fearing
the lashing words of mothers reminding
their daughters that " Sex is sacred and it's a flame
that unites two souls and makes them whole."
And disciplining them with the rod of harshness,
they become the nuns who choose deafening silence!