Long Chagall Poems
Long Chagall Poems. Below are the most popular long Chagall by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chagall poems by poem length and keyword.
The crescent moon and sunlight consumed by the moon’s fullness.
The violin violates the quiet and quaint acquaintance of an eyeful.
The cow, with its rudimentary cuds, could only curse the night.
The bull will not croon its lullaby; he & his Bessy will not take flight.
It’s a circus, peculiar, not meant for sleeping babes in arms.
Infants blink black and white; Chagall’s kaleidoscope alarms.
The angels halt their silent night chorus to weigh in on Bach.
The strum of strings stuck to the ooey-gooey moon ad hoc.
A strange night, indeed, with flying fish - I thrice had that dream.
Marc and Bella sail over the circus-clouds with weathered extreme.
I shall fix upon a romance, most of us stay grounded, perhaps
One leg lifts the skirt, and perhaps the armored chap in lapse
Of selfishness, shows his shining sword, promises to protect
His girlfriend, his bride forevermore with a diamond affect.
Marc and Bella don’t look down to see who’s looking up.
While couples fight for a win, they won’t give up their loving cup.
Exploration of intensity and quadrants, amused in edenic perennial.
Chagall’s, are the canvases I would inhabit. It’ll take a millennial.
In vertigo of night, in their riddled trance
Boldness of petals melt on washed-out shades,
As faces etch a quiet gloom in varied hues
Capturing splashed oil, neutral and bright
While I gaze longingly at a portrait…
Man and wife , as if holding a child almost
Unseen …hidden through a float of blue-white.
Through dimming pain, a view lights up for a time
Where orange of moonlight quietly slips
Amid this rosette outburst and aching gray,
With blossoms strewn along pale candlelight…
How languid colors begin to mold my thoughts
Drowning in a pang of loneliness… I ask
In silence..are the couple ,the babe dying?...dead?
And the fusion of tender, lonely motif allows me
To weep inside, captive in a gasping moan... the kind
Which shapes a tone between life and elegy.
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Frank Herrera's Contest: YOUR PERSONAL BEST of 2016
Written 5/09/2016 Re-submitted 10/18/2016
POTD Awardee
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Inspiration from the painting, Les Amoureux en Gris
Artist: Expressionist, Marc Chagall ( illustration included)
1
Bella
He
opened
the window-
in streamed his first
love
with
flowers,
dressed
in white-
she haunted his
art.
An Ekphrasis in lanterne sequence on Marc Chagall
2.
FLAMING JUNE an ekphrasis
A
flimsy
negligee
betrays her round
shape-
an
honest
innocence
in becalmed deep
sleep.
After Frederick Leighton
3.
PERCEPTIONS
The
painter
creates the
appearance of
things-
we
thereby
see each of
them in a new
light.
An ekphrasis after Kirchner
4.
REVELATION
Drop
by
drop-
into the
unconscious
mind.
Ekphrasis inspired by Pollock's style
ACCIDENTS IN TIME and SPACE a Pollock Ekphrasis
A counterpoint to tease floating
paint in swirls and mounds full
of radiant energy and surprise,
an adventure for our eyes,the
texture comes alive.
Opulence ,intricate yet plain
apparent yet unreal accidents
in time and space,colour
flowing without restraint
63 The noises of Paris
There comes an age and wisdom,
When it is more interesting
To listen to Shostakovich’s symphony number five,
Than to be interested in the noises of Paris,
There comes an age and wisdom,
When it is more rewarding
To marvel at Chagall or Goya
Than to be interested in the noises of Paris,
There comes an age and wisdom
When people have no more secrets,
Art becomes the only answer
To the questions of life,
There comes an age and wisdom
Where it is urgent to save his soul
To listen to speak of the Portuguese, without understanding them,
Rather than listen to the sounds of Paris.
30 Les bruits de Paris
Il vient un âge et une sagesse,
Où il est plus intéressant
D’écouter la symphonie numéro cinq de Chostakovitch,
Que de s’intéresser aux bruits de Paris
Il vient un âge et une sagesse,
Où il est plus enrichissant
De s’émerveiller devant Chagall ou Goya
Que de s’intéresser aux bruits de Paris,
Il vient un âge et une sagesse
Où les hommes n’ont plus de secrets,
L’art devient l’unique réponse
Aux questions de la vie,
Il vient un âge et une sagesse
Où il est urgent de sauver son âme
D’écouter parler des portugais, sans les comprendre,
Plutôt que d’écouter les bruits de Paris.
The catalyst of two faces, his and hers,
bookends with pleasure dais in between.
Faithfully compacted on canvas, concurs,
never turning ones back, remains clean.
Sharp brush of Chagall, floats lovers.
Their passion, a cloud in lala land, hovers.
Circus performer on ochre horse forbids
openness and honesty of their lofty eyelids.
Marc’s pallet red and black succinctly
paints an inseparable couple, for better;
worse, flower-veins glory and pain distinctly
shady, married-hair worn romantic with fetters.
Poet decides his circus lacks an idyllic affinity .
With pain, questions whether to smoke or abstain.
A satisfied artist, elongates his masculinity —
triad of instruments, hard lines against grain.
11/25/2020
Le Cirque Bleu
The spotlight is aglow through the gloam
The light an indigo ink modifying color
She swings her body with agility thrusting backwards
upside down, with unseen wings,
an acrobat aerials amid the roar
She looks pretty with her fan in one hand,
long tresses flowing loosely
A circus horse made of jade below
makes eye contact and an interconnection
Without movement they are in an eternal trance,
In the deep dark yonder the golden helio appears
Fiddle and banjo play for the opening adagios act La Nouba
Her leotard tightly invokes, red with flower imprints
Statuesque, still in time showing off her physique
and impressing spectators from below the fliers' pedestal
From above the nets, with ease, she imagines a
world where gravity defies, and animals and objects fly
Flights of fancy within the flying trapeze
flights of fancy an indigo trapeze ~ from above jade nets, an ease
I go to the art gallery often ...
I like it all ... the Renaissance, Gothic, and Baroque period
and the Romanesque period, love the myths painted
even the Twentieth Century art
I love
I have a passion to learn everything about art history
the artists, the paints, the techniques used
and I even have an interest in the frames
the vivid colors of the Renaissance religious paintings
take my breath away, imagine the artists mixed their colors
how did they know how to create a certain tone
how did they know the effect that it would have on their canvas
so inspiring, so skillful
the bible and life of Christ, the saints and miracles
the depictions of myths and legends so beautifully depicted
history painted, wars ... the portraits and nature scenes
I admire the works of Botticelli, Picasso, Rubens, Klimt, Raphael
Titian, Gaugin, Da Vinci, Rembrandt, Chagall and many more
in Canada we love the Group of Seven artists
paintings about the history of Canada
and the art of the first nation peoples
I also love the statues scattered throughout the gallery
wandering ... absorbing "art" knowledge is my desire
and when I am home from a day at the gallery
I gather my art supplies, sketch pads, canvases and paints
inspired by all I have seen... I mix colors ... try techniques
... to create my own kind of art
______________________
March 27, 2023
Am I allowed to court you with many a lovely look,
Like Paris throwing an apple for you, my reader?
Sweet Fancy`s Fairy, sitting by this dear stanza- brook,
Am I allowed some pretty nothings for you, my reader?
The butterfly of happiness will fly from our tender book
To find a reason and a certitude, for you, my reader;
I know you know all poets starve for any merry look
I hold the rainbow and an arrow, for you, my reader;
You don`t remember when so fool this verse I took
To lie the hope in love with love, for you, my reader.
This wonder drop of the first light I still wear before fall:
It was at very first beginning as word, for you, my reader.
This poem of our age in hope alluring beauty may call
The noble thrill of good tomorrow for you, my reader;
Thy forehead resting on my shoulder, a picture by Chagall:
This lie becomes true favorable look, for you, my reader.
Is your smile the only prize a poet took? Then let be all;
But many wonders are still possible for you, my reader.
And here, YOUR NAME I put, while writing my Ghazal:
A nosegay of dreams, a tender touch for you, my reader.
I ache for an esoteric escape ~
to relearn the unwritten rhythm,
lost in the gravity
of your gossamer gaze,
where the sun
no longer dawns
as a sinister star ~
and the dust
of monsoon skies
rains soulful sonatas,
while mellifluous mists
merge with silence,
to paint
a porcelain portrait
that feels like forever ~
not merely
a picturesque prison,
but a place that houses love,
beyond uncertainties
framed in fear…
but now we meet and muse
in the realm of garnet gravels,
a dream delicately composed
in roseate reverie
where this becomes
more than a portrait,
a poem woven with patience,
when heavy is the past
that
pushes, pulls,
presses ~
while leaves sigh and
drift through skies of
autumnal elegance…
I surrender to your balmy blues
the ocean-deep devotion.
I long to devour and remain
consumed
amidst the
boulevard of divine doves
a field of freedom
until every evening
envelops our thoughts
with tender teal ~ timelessness
and soul-prints pulse
and glimmer
tracing twilight’s melodies
like silk-laced stars
spinning through
the cashmere cadence
of everlasting Eden…
CHAGALL EKPHRASIS
A fantasist,alive upon canvas,surreal
and yet..so very real his love-for her-
not concealed.There..floating for all
to see..childlike, innocence his lady
in white,for us to wonder..and delight
Inspired by Chagall’s ‘Lady in White’
KLIMT EKPHRASIS
A kiss,Klimt’s symbol of love nouveau,
suggestive rather than descriptive,yet
of time immemorial.Love upon a cloud
of gold,lost in that moment where time
does not exist.One with the other,alone
and yet..desire..and need in love’s power
then to exist.
Inspired by Klimt’s ‘The Kiss’
Listen to me recite these ekphrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro