Short Monet Poems
Short Monet Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Monet by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Monet by length and keyword.
Pierre August Renoir in soft focus
caught the first impressionist bus
Master of light & artistry
also famed for sensuality
MONET
obsessed
by
light
TRIKU the single word ekphrasis hiku with integral one word title -
God is an artist of great masterpieces who --like Monet--
likes to shift colors on His palette throughout the light of day :)
Being a son
of beauty and
inspiration, I am
poet friend
of the beautiful colors ...
but not any cliché ... just
screen inspiring colors
from Monet ...
happy
feel lifting gifts arrive shining golden bright days ...
striking steel brushes create a pain-hued Monet ...
depressed
French artist Claude Monet
painted scenes from life occurring day to day.
Peace he found from his large garden pond
where paintings of 250 water lilies he spawned.
Amid silence filled
with tranquil fervor,
the Weeper stands
blotting the earth
green and yellow keen
against the echoes
of artillery and
dead men
damned to the
muddy wounds of war
ah, yes, Monet
delicate brush
subtle pastels
repetition
trying to get it right
trees, lily pads, meadows, flowers,
redoing and redoing,
the same scene many times over
trying to perfect his craft
he did not realize that he already had
Elusive, scenes,reflections of the commonplace,the fugitive ephemeral, somewhat surreal linger long.Nothng is what it seems ,moving masterpieces ,fleeting,as is,impressions.Translating nature into art,sharing the experience again.again..and again
The
complex
becomes
simple
detail
disintegrates
to
shapes
where
colour
shimmers-
its
impression
melts
before
our eyes
into
a blurred
memory
the impression
of a cold nip
ple express
ed then re
vealed
a cherry a
top a doll
op of
choc
olate
it's not
what you
think for it
is just a fore
ground for in
the back
ground a
round
world
eye
above a
tongue that
runs the rim
of her upper
lip
winks
Form:
“Show me the Monet!”
I heard Cuba say.
Good thing I heard wrong;
It can’t be that way.
----------
H/T To Caren Krutsinger's "How I Feel about Monet"
Note: I read the comments associated with the poem Dawn Song
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/dawn_song_1342685
A crooked cobblestone street of windows
A maze of windows - creating a mournful meandering mirror
Watching, waiting, and wishing to be magical and magnificent
The brilliance of becoming something more
And as misty darkness undressed the Day
As luck would have it - wish granted, and it was a Monet.
Pinpoints of lightened tones blush in grace
with impressionistic smudges…
ornate yet mellow like hues
glistening fine textures
on Monet’s lattice,
breathing alive
as I soak
in his
oil !
………….
Brian Strand's Contest No 219, Max 14 lines
Painting: Pathways in Monet's Garden
In Giverny 1902
She rises into the sky’s bright breath,
her dress a sail the wind has claimed.
Sunlight drifts over her in petal-light shimmers,
each of Monet’s brushstroke a whisper of movement.
The parasol tilts, green and glowing
a small moon held against the trembling blue.
Below her, the grasses lean in admiration,
their soft applause lost in the shimmer of day.
Evening’s Monet sky over fields of wheat;
impressionistic clouds in heartbeat
crescendo to the universal rhythm.
Sapphire-turquoise rings dancing ‘round
with orange, pink and purple clouds,
in the distance, evening moon
climbs higher to highlight joyous party.
Gaia’s children aglow with brother moon’s
blessing; nature’s bash is the best ever.
Art like Monet
It is like an alternate reality
Soft, vivid full of pureness
Unlike harsh reality
Raw and rough around the edges
Hustling for the next desire
Monet simply lies there
In its purest form
Of Watercolor Aesthetics
The waves of the water he paints
Immerses my eyes with clouds of subtle feeling
A feeling that is smoother than reality
Captured in a stroke
The paint on the grand easel
Monet
Monet strayed from trees and haystacks on this canvas
kept his signature clouds and barely touching strokes
verdent grass is speckled a lot like Cezanne would do
the muted colors fairly yell Monet to the connoisseur
woman’s shadow is perfection, as is her green umbrella
lifting this admirer’s hazel eyes from top to bottom
was this lady an unrequited love or possibly his mother?
Monet was never one to tell, so no one knows
No greater love than in my heart
for this I always knew from the very start
no mountain too tall to climb
knowing one day you would be mine
my version of Monet skies
the pride of my two turquoise eyes
lying down upon blades of grass
gently sir, caress my breast
my heart has held you forever in its grasp
please love me with passion as I bestow romance
this love I know puts me deep within a trance
I pray Dear Lord for love to last
Paris Down Under
I heard the thunder
all the kangaroos hid
children screamed in fear
the witch, her brew asunder
I calmed the innocent
peace is within my sphere
I danced with a Wolfe
Birds took a glance at philosophy
A druid mumbles
give peace a chance
I swallowed a lemon
said are crazy Sheilas in sanity?
Life full of questions
answers fly in the wind
just remember these wise words
ignore the ugly echo's
of skeletons in the wind