Short Galleries Poems

frost window paintings
in galleries of morning
nature’s creations...

Read More

In the hearts many chambers
Stored away are museums
Cherished moments giving love...
Receiving amour...

Read More

In a gallery full of fine art
My heart goes off the chart
My hair isn’t long
but I’m pretty strong
I'd love to haul it off in a cart...

Read More

The galleries silent, 

Some face the walls 

Did you see that 

The rivers are blood red

and they flow 

from forehead to homeland...
...

Read More

From
abstract
to design-
in foliate 
heads

Ekphrasis-John Piper paste & see @
johnpiper.org.uk/foliate-heads-1953.htm & his work @
johnpiper.org.uk/Galleries.htm...

Read More

She likes flowers. She likes galleries and art.  She likes bookstores and museums, and walks in the park.  She’s enticingly odd, her countenance unflawed, I’m ooohed and I’m awed.  I gotta tell ya – she is one cool broad....

Read More

Ink without a pen
fluid flowing uncontrolled...
graffiti attack.

© Harry J Horsman  2012


foot note

in my opinion!
some graffiti i really like, and should be displayed
in art galleries, where the energy of the artist(s) 
are allowed to flourish.....

Read More

taping dancing freedom
on the mountaintop


tiptoeing
the mountain top
we slipped

fell like children
of Sisyphus

shooting galleries
caught us

life’s struggle
is over

weep not child
tomorrow comes
bearing new beginnings

if you believe
in the beginning...

Read More

the braising tomorrow 
gathered beneath me
upon a silent glare 
sounded by great wealth 
unwanted unneeded borrowed 
from yesterday oh how I gazed 
above ground whimpering 
a solid tear formed from a nesting 
fear an empty sigh where love 
loomed about God's own 
galleries of hidden faith...

Read More

Such a lot of things I'd do,
The books I'd read
The shows I'd see!
I'd sip long galleries
Of half-forgotten pleasures. 

He went to school, the youngest,
Not big enough to tie his shoes, 
School case in his chubby grip,
Smiling, eager, new...I sit and
Silence creeps about uncluttered rooms....

Read More

I shall write while I rest 
amid the faint hues channeled 
by a functioning heart bottled 
to perfection during the tranquil 
lessons a masterpiece unfolds 
the infamous characters bonded 
beyond the galleries of distant carny 
and Gothic folklores tampered above 
a shattered notion of writers block...

Read More

The svengali of American art
His teaching gave so many a start
'Harmony & balance' his famed word-play
'Filling space in a beautiful way'
In Georgia's heart,his words did stay

Tribute To Arthur Wesley Dow (1857-1922) Teacher & artist

http://www.artnet.com/Galleries/Artists_detail.asp?gid=529&aid=5407  Marsh Creek...

Read More

In galleries of ancient art
Were cases filled with rings
And necklaces and bracelets,
Maybe meant for wives of kings.

Or possibly for normal folk,
For lots were made of clay,
Ceramic beads not different from
What might be worn today.

Though I couldn’t own these pieces
Made in ancient Greece or Rome,
I could pay them homage with
A little mention in a poem....

Read More

New hope carried my soul through summer travels
its timing good karmic irony ,found in ancient parables 
I've dared myself to exceed my expectations
I've survived with new creations
displayed on the walls of art galleries 
in towns I'll never see

sometimes wisdom must resolve indecision
No desire no vision
gave myself permission 
never to keep my distnce from success
...blessed...

Read More

May we be blessed to acknowledge all the wonders in our life
that have, for us, thus far accrued…
and to begin each day with a word of thanks…
and thoughts of gratitude.

Today I’m thankful for nature…the artist
whose techniques may change throughout the seasons 
but whose masterpieces survive… 

And for the way a stroll through any of her varied galleries
makes one thankful to be alive...

Read More

I visited the Met* today
And came to this conclusion –
My spirits were revived as if
I’d had a blood transfusion.

For two long years I’ve stayed away
And all of my seclusion
Has weighed me down and filled me with
The sadness of exclusion.

But walking through the galleries,
Enjoying my inclusion,
I feel prepared to join the world
And shed my disillusion.

*Metropolitan Museum of Art...

Read More

Childhood seemingly fading away
You’re blooming into a woman at last
You’ll start looking toward the future
While still reflecting upon the past

The books you’ll read, more defined
Ones which spark interests in thee
Displaying your etchings at galleries nearby
Becoming who You want to be

16… an age so important
Adulthood is well on its way
Good wishes in all future endeavors
The world, at your feet, it does lay...

Read More

Capturing beauty on canvas is magic to me.
That’s why I admire the work of George Dunlop Leslie.
Just the right colors and shades are what I see.
Still images seem to have the power to become reality.
He was just a mere mortal, and had to leave the earth.
However, his talent appears to have come with his birth.
Many of his works are in galleries to display.
Bringing a canvas to life?  He certainly knew the way!
...

Read More

Vermont in the summer
Road trip for the girls
Rushing around to see it all
And not miss a thing
Quaint places galore
Galleries and shops
Restaurants and cafés
Panoramic vistas and mountains
So many photos to snap

Like young giggling girls at a pyjama party
Euphoric and loving every moment
Not taking a second for granted
Feeling free as teenage girls on the loose



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Submitted on February 5, 2018...

Read More

A silent presence
Gathering shelter
In verses stricken 
Under logged curses
For serenity of moon.

There you fell asleep
Lulled by aftermath
In frozen tears
Shed by the rose
At advent of dawn
Dripping with dews.

What use of inviting fancies
Half buried under the sand
Depicted in pictorial reliefs
Discursive galleries
Of the ancient lands.

To seek consolations
In verbal episode
A smooth searched
Cannon 
In liquid quilled verses....

Read More

Nothing new and nothing old
flows from the palette Time,
no colours stuck or icy cold
can mask the blood and grime

Here a dab, a tinge of hate
a shade of envy and deceit
last runners, now a little late,
stand puzzled in the street

another portrait lies beneath
the dried and broken crust
other mothers lay a wreath
for sons they could not trust

Galleries of make believe
hang landscapes brushed by fear
who must cheer and who must grieve
to make the madness clear....

Read More

If time were a slow thing
a snake shedding skins,
a lizard gradually wakening
to its life in the sunlight;
if it were a red bus
dawdling through
congested streets,
or the swish of a cat's tail
just before it pounces,
then we could paint moments,
embellish, or translate
what each instant meant,
build galleries for clocks
but they would not be clocks
they would be faces
in a gallery of self-portraits,
or we could simple shed our layers
under a peeling sun....

Read More