Toile Poems - Poems about Toile

...I am devastated, dumbfounded, dismayed, These people are so stupid, or crazy, They threw some hot soup On a painting by Claude Monet, These people are ridiculous, wicked, Who will listen to them......

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...Les petites pépites de temps mènent à de GRANDS RÉSULTATS je désirais accomplir une seule chose par jour je croyais avoir perdu la tête à la fin de chaque journée je ne pouvais comprendre co......

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...Translation of Eric Mottram’s Courbet: Elegy 8 by T. Wignesan Blanches oeuvres ouvertes résident dans les jours la surface du banc de travail est noire les géraniums-lierres les fougères et......

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...There is a wind , which sketched, Without my knowledge, the message; Autumn had lying words, On my page. It was by way of red leaves, The bird of passage, Twirling in space, I followed......

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...I see on a canvas, this face The distant look, as detached from the world, Behind me ,trying to decipher shadows The unstable condition of the wind, and the ignored face of the days ... Or mayb......

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...- The window opens on our secret travels Mist of saline uproar raids on the space What keeps us awake and makes us sagacious Under this afternoon luxuriously blended, The addition a......

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...Lost in a vertical field Stretched over a wire, Cut into a shape, Hanging on wet folds ... The sun moves and dazzled me, ... I'll be drunk by the white Cleared to everyone eyes, Already w......

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...The homes displayed in magazines Are opulent or spare. In either case, it’s hard to picture Ever living there. The lavish and extravagant To me are too ornate. With all that chintz, brocade a......

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...Oh DARK artist What a beautiful picture you create Not with hues, pigments, and light But with tone, imagery, and night The soul an awaiting canvas Your pen the finest brush With reckless abandon yo......

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...Millions of myopic men sit with hand on pen to write out monthly checks and pay by crook or heck to keep their many toys (promised to all good boys) and for which they'v toile and sweat just t......

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...White skinned, coconut walls beg to swallow the sun This cradled mass which slips it's fingers into every house, every day. Under curtains with brilliant tips, lifting up umber velvet, toile, ......

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