In the city where thoughts are sculptures of mist on the lawns,
And the lawns are green seas where nameless dreams sail,
People become shadows, smoke figures entwined in the same dance,
Losing their meaning, reflecting in screens of shared illusions.
In search of uniqueness, egos become towers of crystal,
Raising golden flags in the wind of silent indifference.
Wealth becomes a stage, fame just an echo of a dream,
But beneath the mask of brilliance, we are all figures in the same dream.
In the schools of non-identity, thoughts are rows of houses,
Where souls seek to escape through glass windows.
Identical gazes, glued to screens reflecting the same longing,
Sharing the same thought, yet getting lost in the crowd.
The paradox of unity in diversity is a field of cold stars,
Free thinking does not unite us, but acceptance might.
Yet many cannot find their way through the labyrinth of the mind,
Remaining sand sculptures, carried by the wind of forgotten time.
Disorder in symmetry, crack in the line
Distorted perspective, cubistic design
Sculptures in celluloid wrappings stand by
Amorphous stains on your hands - wonder why ?
Clean them away with the acetone drips
Mix a new color, paint some bright strips
Autumnal wind blew those images down
He is the author, and I'm just a clown.
the catastrophe
avoided…wobble…wobble
lazy chair upstart
banged the curio panel
upheaval of heavy art
3/6/2023
SCULPTURES
moods
in
waiting
so
pleasurable
where
everything
is
engagingly
radiant
expansive&
eerily beautiful
an unforgettable
haunting presence
in
representation
morph
into
the other
patterned
dappled
lightly
a
happening
traced
in stone
now restricted
ere
it
transpires
images
depicted
thought
pauses
gathered
in
essence
a
freehand
reproduction
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Please watch video for the "TOP 10 WEIRDEST SCULPTURES AROUND THE WORLD"
His life’s creations in the desert rise
Magnificently over sage and sand,
Each one beyond the reach of human eyes,
In lonely, quiet vigil does it stand.
But why must he create his sculptures here
Seen only by the cactus, snakes, and sun?
The answer in his younger days seemed clear,
In latter years that logic comes undone.
“Art justifies itself”, or so he’d say
“I need no human praise to do my best”;
He now believes art should be on display
That others’ lives might be enriched and blest.
So now he humbly builds his statues nearer,
And hopes they’ll serve as prism, lens, and mirror.
Glazing in that black
background entwining sculptures
seem growing branches
Date Joined Poetry Soup: 7/7/2008
In the eve of the morn, I rose from bed.
When the clock stuck noon, I went into the lavatory to check
my skeleton heads.
Each sat on a mantle of its own.
Images of that, which have bygone, a rebirth form of faces
that has haunted existence for so long.
My hands touch and begin to sculpture the busts.
Ah, Karma is very lovely.
The atmosphere was fulfill with aura.
My vibes demonstrated a six sense.
My fingertips outlined their essence.
These busts were of woman and man.
Bygone was the days they had been discussed in the world.
Their impressions; however, are well remembered.
Ah, Karma was ambiance.
Tis morn, when I awoke in this place, sets Sculptures of Many Faces.
If I were Jesus
I would breathe souls into your
Beautiful sculptures
carved cruicifixes,
slashed n’ sliced stars of david,
chiseled taijitus,
hacked stars n’ crescents
cleaved christs
dissected n’ shaped buddhas,
engraved menorahs
chipped n’ etched away Confucius
trimmed dharmachakras
whittled & molded muhammad
severed n’ separated astrological zodiac signs
snipped aum
chopped n’ cracked pentagrams
lopped off lotus flowers
shaved n’ grated ichthys &
pierced pentacles---
all wash away in the sink
after running warm water over them
for a little while.
God's summer sculpture,
Divine and complex.
A season of bright sunshine and warmth,
Walks through God's beautiful garden.
A rainbow of flowers,
My favorite, the black-eyed susans.
Their dark spheres and yellow petals,
A bouquet smiling at me when I walk past.
The green foliage everywhere,
Tall spruces and pines.
Maples with their summer green,
Extending friendship with their tall long branches and leaves.
The long winding walkway to the lake,
The ducks and geese swimming in lines.
Willows tall and sweeping,
Bull rushes ever so tall.
White lilies in pods at the edge of the lake,
A picturesque summer sculpture.
The walkway reminiscent and kind,
A return home after a beautiful day.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
Sculpture
Rounded, molded
Sculpted by God’s hands
Not made for the benefit
Of the hands of every man
You can look
But touches
Are not allowed
For I’m a treasure gem
Not a bruised piece of fruit
Ocean creations,
By aquatic erosion:
Sculptures of the deep.
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.