Warhol Poems - Poems about Warhol

STENCILISTA multiples of   mutual repulsion  to   faciitate    vivid      imagery overlaid   squeeged masked  thru     mesh lithographed into   art...

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a little red book- to fill many empty heads....

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often A five minute fad or one week wonder; fame for a quarter of an hour... better yet.. Fleeting images.. shadows in the sun, vapour of the morning dew.. . Petals of a flower...

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Goodbye, Andy Warhol, R.I.P. Welcome to the world of sensationalism. Welcome to the pop culture of Andy Warhol. Who saw, in a can, nutritious soup for consumption. And beauty in the face of an ungodly woman. But remember, “Andy was philosophical!” So, who is to question his business production, Of inner eye commercial art compositions: And judge sacrilege, ridiculous or abstraction? Hey! Andy Warhol,...

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Campbell's Tomato Soup, a vision of the sixties Andy Warhol and his creative mind, some seemed silly But each played a role It was his overall goal To strike out in a new direction in the age of the hippies...

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andy comes in campbell cans tomato soup black, white, and red squeezed out pop until it bled art is all in andy's head andy do you dare to dream pinks and yellows, blues and greens the day you popped onto the scene do you know just what i mean marilyn's golden in her day elvis skates in figure eight's 64 the riot race moon museum from...

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Almost every day. Hold your hand close to me. Post me against the wall and stick pins on all four corners. Explain whats happening in vivid emotion. If I've pissed you off black out my eyes. If you've stored me in your heart cover the space behind me blood red. There is no need to question the value of if what...

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Warhol Art Campbell Soup Can Self portrait Alone by the camera Attached to lines formed with illumination Photographs A true artist of his time He surely did shine Suggesting everyone gets 15 minutes of fame True art in a symbolic fashion Seeking the latest trend All the high hobs would visit him Was...

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andy comes in campbell cans tomato soup black, white, and red squeezed out pop until it bled art is all in andy's head andy do you dare to dream pinks and yellows, blues and greens the day you popped onto the scene do you know just what i mean marilyn's golden in her day elvis skates in figure eight's 64 the riot race moon museum from...

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9 East 32nd Street Between 5th and 6th Avenue In New York City. My apartment was 3C On the same block, Andy ran his “Factory”. Saw him frequently Looking his visual self, Me an SVA art student Living with my cat And no one else. We crossed each other one afternoon, Andy gave me a free copy Of his magazine “Interview”. 23 years later I’m thinking Instead of taking it...

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