The stars have descended a little lower, to keep us —
My kinsmen and I —company on this night watch
On a newly roused African night.
We filch a little bit of the effulgence of the waking moon,
Reluctant, with the invasion of jealous clouds, their plumes
Fragile with inconsistency.
We rely on the luminescence of each other’s eyes and the trust
In our hearts
Tinder, broken by flying flickers of fireflies,
Shine through the breath of darkness, dis-virgining the chunky yolk
Of secrets and the clout of night, so corvine.
Every breath keeps us warm and frightens the monsters lurking
Around the lean corridors of the enchanted thresholds.
The heavens stare downward —witnesses to a stifling explosion of
Will; so are the crepitating crickets and cicadas —in prayers they
Egg us on, and through borrowed liturgy of nocturnal canticles.
The heartbeats in us make silenced music —loud only by the essence of
Gaiety and humming drums lightly tapped by ancestral fingers,
Helping to warm our hearts and will in the face of the severest darkness
Made lighter by the glows of slow-running lights — the broad painting of
Dawn.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.S E L F I E S*
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
MALERICHSTA
a painterly
feeling
for form
outlines
merging
One
into
another
a background
face
in
patches
of
light
&
shade
Rembrandt van Rijn looked-
he saw ,then painted selfies..galore
I follow Rembrandt from world to world
Some are internal, others are beyond my grasp.
His antics and ideas open my mind to possibilities.
We are painting, creating, inventing.
He is a whirlwind of activity, by himself.
I have never met such a person.
Not only a Renaissance man, but a poet, an author, a painter.
He is an inventor, a philosopher, a philanderer.
What? I had not known this.
I discreetly avoid his eyes.
Then I tell him about cell phones, and he lights up.
Alive and ready to begin something new.
depth& power
in
dramatic light
shadowed
radiating
the profound
all humanity
portrayed
pictured
in
truth
including
self
Rembrandt's portraiture made him great wealth
unfortunately that was not good for his health
He spent unwisely& never could save
ending up sadly,dead,in a poor mans' grave
Dawn is nature's blank canvas
painting linear liquid hues
Delicate dripping and splashing
layering in peaches, pinks,
and violets with golden
tints too
Blending array of colors
Expressing an artistic view
Her brush dances in
curvaceous slants with a
vigorous sweeping technique
Boldly it never ceases to add its
own vibrant colored contrast
Leaving me in awe of
Mother Nature's
own priceless Rembrandt
2nd place
Contest; your choice max 333 words
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Ars Longa
It finally happened!
Someone in the East Wing
Goateed a Madonna and redid a Rembrant
a la de Kooning.
A blond with Vogue patterns
is crouched on the hall--
She's eyeing a Van Gogh
eyeing her from the wall.
We judge from the blushes
of blue-rinsed ladies in fur
Rude comments were made
on the audio tour.
The guards commandeer
Donatellos for targets
and are cleaning their pistols
with snips of Vermeer.
The staff in the Art Shoppe
is selling originals
and hanging the copies
in Gallery Five.
They're burning the Monets
they've tattooed Apollo,
crowds clamor outside
to get in on the fun.
Cars circle the gallery
in infinite coils--
curbside parturitions
here a boy there a girl.
Clyde Pucelli was known as The Rembrandt of The Great Midwest!
He was an itinerant painter, esteemed as one of the best!
With his brushes and well-blended oils he'd render a masterpiece;
His fame spread since he specialized in hues of white and cerise.
He traveled in an old shay with his faithful horse Dan at the helm,
Brightening the households of Hoosier Land, Clyde's singular realm.
It took a couple of days to complete a painting then he'd move on,
Leaving folks to marvel at his handiwork long after he was gone!
You'd be surprised to learn he didn't do oils to display on a wall;
No, he painted ramshackle barns, outhouses and sheds, that's all!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
He
looked
he
saw
portraying
every
flaw
in gestures
faces
he saw
much,
much
more
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.