Short Gauguin Poems

Short Gauguin Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Gauguin by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Gauguin by length and keyword.


Premium Member Spring's Beauty

Meadows are painted
 
By Van Gogh, Monet, Gauguin

Unsurpassed beauty!







© Demetrios Trifiatis
       22 March 2017
Form: Haiku


Arty Stuff No 4

Arty stuff No 4

Gauguin was eating a peach,
While painting a scene on the beach,
A girl who was nude
Thought he looked rather lewd,
So she kept herself way out of reach!!
© Tim Riding  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Limerick

Premium Member composite kaleidoscope

Nine Inch Nails play Handel’s Messiah
Gauguin paints Guernica bare chested
war poets fall in love with what never was
a Gingko tree blossoms at Hiroshima’s swords
into ploughshares condor legions into peace doves

cacophony synaesthesia proverbially composed

Premium Member Autumn

Autumn

I looked up to see
the day receding from me
and it’s falling leaves.
            ***

Note:
   The 'Alyscamps' is an ancient Roman cemetery founded in the 4th century in Arles, France. Vincent van Gogh was inspired by Japanese woodblock prints and expressed his feelings about Japanese art in letters he wrote to his brother Theo and fellow artist Paul Gauguin.
Form: Haiku

Gauguin's Chair

Candle lit quarters.. bearing colorful carpet... and his wooden chair. · With a curved backrest, of somber reddish-brown wood; upholstered green straw. · and in his absence... a lit candle takes his place: ...two modern novels. · Vincent paint’s his muse, in consistent loneliness... ...waiting for Gauguin. _________________________________ For Abe's Van Goh's of Van Gogh contest the Painting is "Gauguin’s Chair"
Form: Choka


Premium Member Gauguin

I tell you
it is rough being the poet
of petty bourgeois 
middle class complaint. 
Sensibilities based in
the ordinary.
Fetishes and obsessions
clinging to the prosaic
with no great success nor
abject failure.
Some practical good sense
always seemed to save me
and render life and poetry
to a solid B grade. 

I need to drink and carouse, 
do drugs and gamble my last dime, 
and hang out meantime with the
wildest of wild women, but
I can't, so
I sit here waiting for
Gauguin

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