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Knowing how to paint and to use one's colors rightly has not any connection with originality. This originality consists in properly expressing your own impressions.

quote by Thomas Couture
Added by Lucian Velea
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L.a. Connection

Oh, carry home my broken bones and lay me down to rest
Forty days of cries and moans i guess i've failed to pass the test
I've been sent away not a thing to say
I'm banished from the fold
I'm a fallen angel who's lost his wings and left out in the cold
Ooooh l.a. connection
Oh l.a. connection
L.a. connection, yeah
Operator place a call keep secret but it through
Investigator knows it all he's at the window i wonder who
I've got to cut the line and let me drift find a haven in the storm
I got no time i need a lift to where it's sweet and close and warm
I say
Ooooh l.a. connection
Oh l.a. connection
L.a. connection
Hey, carry home my broken bones and lay me down to rest
Forty days of cries and moans well i've just failed the test
Feel i'm balanced on the brim should i lean another way
Like a flame that's going on the dim needs blessing from the day, oh
Ooooh l.a. connection, l.a. connection
Oh take me away i got nothing to say
It's got to be an l.a. connection, oh
Ooooh l.a. connection, l.a. connection
Ooooh, l.a., l.a., l.a., l.a., l.a. connection
Connection, oh
Ooooh l.a. connection, l.a. connection
Oh l.a., oh, l.a. connection
L.a., l.a. inspection
Ooooh l.a. connection, l.a. connection
Oh i'm down, oh i'm down
I can't take a rejection
L.a., need an l.a. connection
L.a., yeah, oh l.a. connection
L.a. connection
I'm flying away
Take me back home, i gotta get home to l.a.
L.a., l.a. connection, l.a.
Oh, l.a. connection, l.a. connection
Ooooh, ooooh, l.a. connection, l.a.

song performed by Rainbow
Added by Lucian Velea
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Make That Connection

Oh what would I do
Oh what would I do babe
Honey I have this feeling
Its never ever ever explained
Yeah Im afraid a part of my heart
Would always feel misunderstood babe
I would never know honey
I never meant to drive you away
Whats wrong?
I want to make that connection, that connection to you
I want to make that connection, that connection to you
What would I give if I could have you now
Baby what would I give to see your smiling face again
You know theres nothing I would not do
No river I would not swim, no mountain I would not climb baby
If I could have you right here once again
I want to make that connection, that connection to you
I want to make that connection, that connection to you
Tell me baby is it something I might have said?
Is it something I might have done wrong to change your mind?
Tell me baby is it something Ive have said?
Is it something I couldve done?
Honey somehow let me right all your wrongs
I want to make that connection, that connection to you
I want to make that connection, that connection to you
Oh what would I give if you would tell me just one thing
Honey what would I give if you would stroke my hand with your brow
Or whisper sweet things into my ear I would smile like a baby
I would be happy like a child if I could have you right here, right here, right here
Right here with me now
I want to make that connection, that connection to you
I want to make that connection, yes I do
I want to make that connection, that connection to you
I want to make that connection, whats wrong?
I want to make that connection, that connection to you

song performed by Tom Petty
Added by Lucian Velea
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Colors Of Life

See the colors of life
The colors of dreams
The colors of life
Wherever you go
Wherever you may go
Trust in hope, trust in your real friends
Planet colors alive, you hold it in your hands
Realize you have to open your eyes
And Ive learned everything has always two sides
You're not alone
The world is one family
You're not alone
Find your way to be free
You're not alone
Love is the hope to survive
You're not alone
See the colors of life
See the colors of life
See the colors of life
See the colors of dreams
They are wild and free
See the colors around
See the colors around
The colors you have found
See the colors of life
See the colors of life
The colors of dreams
The colors of life
The colors of life
The colors of dreams
The colors of life
There's a land, there's a place in your heart
Tolerance is the key to make a better start
I've been waiting for my lessons of life
And I've learned everything has always two sides

song performed by DJ Bobo
Added by Lucian Velea
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Heavy Connection

In the land of a thousand dances
I dance with you
I was out I was taking my chances
When dreams came true
When you came into my dream
Like from a whisper to a scream
And its a real heavy connection
Its just a real heavy connection
Its a real heavy connection
Lalalala......
I remember when I got your message in amsterdam
I was going through my letters
And found a picture-postcard of the reeperbahn
When you came into the room
Not too late and not too soon
And its a real heavy connection
And its a real heavy connection
And its a real heavy connection
Lalalala......
And you came into my dreams
From a whisper to a scream
And its a real heavy connection
And its a real heavy connection
Its just a real heavy connection
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala
And its a real heavy connection
And its a real heavy connection
And its a real heavy connection
Lalalala.....
Baby, baby, baby
I cant stop this rainbow
Touching my soul
I cant stop this rainbow
In my soul
Baby, baby, baby
Baby, baby, baby
Baby, baby, baby
Baby, baby, baby
Baby, baby, baby

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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True Colors

Features babyface
You with the sad eyes
Dont be discouraged
Oh I realize
Its hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness, inside you
Can make you feel so small
But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And thats why I love you
So dont be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow
Show me a smile then,
Dont be unhappy, cant remember
When I last saw you laughing
If this world makes you crazy
And youve taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know Ill be there
And Ill see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And thats why I love you
So dont be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow
[intru part]
So sad eyes
Discouraged now
Realize
When this world makes you crazy
And youve taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know Ill be there
And Ill see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And thats why I love you
So dont be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors, true colors
Cos theres a shining through
I see your true colors
And thats why I love you

[...] Read more

song performed by Phil Collins
Added by Lucian Velea
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Choose Your Color

I will paint the walls blue
Blue is calm, blue is power
Blue is the color of tranquility
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the ceiling green
Green is healthy, green is peace
Green makes time move faster
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the floor red
Red is fire, red is danger
Red is the symbol of passion
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the sky purple
Purple is sad, purple is gloomy
Purple is the color of romance
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the tree black
Black is fear, black is death
Black is the symbol of grief
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the street yellow
Yellow is happy, yellow is fresh
Yellow is the color of sunshine
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint the fence orange
orange is wisdom, orange is wealth
Orange is the color of success
Do you see my colors yet?

I will paint everything white
White is good, white is pure
White is the color of faith
Have you seen my colors yet?

(August 16th,2006)

poem by Christopher G. Turner
Added by Poetry Lover
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Looking At The Many People

Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people,
Waiting to live a life they like.
The many people...
In a luxurized hype.

Looking at the people,
Waiting for a life they like.
The many people.
Looking at the many people.

Embittered and lamenting.
Looking at the many people.
Living venting and resenting.
Looking at the many people.

Condescending and offending.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...
And in their minds they're losing sense.

Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people.
Waiting for a life they like.
The many people.
Looking at the many people.

Looking at the many people.
Waiting for a life they like.
The many people.
Looking at the many people.

Embittered and lamenting.
Looking at the many people.
Living venting and resenting.
Looking at the many people.

Condescending and offending.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...
And in their minds they're losing sense.

Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...
And in their minds they're losing sense.

Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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A Picture Of Colors

A picture of colors
A purple forest of colors
A balloon of colors
A blue fantasy of colors
This is what our planet should be
A whirlwind of colors
A white world of colors
A resting place of colors
A red hideaway of colors
This is what it should look like
A ‘yes' world of colors
A yellow rainbow of colors
A graced hill of colors
A green meadow of colors
An overflowing basket of colors
An orange bowl of colors
This would be a perfect place

poem by Mye3
Added by Poetry Lover
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Paint Me Down

Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im walking into studio
Consider strange appeal
Paint me in the home
Im brushing up on sketchbook
Designs for love unreal
Paint me in the home
Oil and skin youll need to buy it
Consider what I mean
She sinks beneath thr moving pictures
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im soaking up the surface
Conceaiving new idea
Paint me in the home
Shes oiling up her subject
But all still life is here
Paint me in the home
All the boys with framed dimension
A cover up on lust
Hell take his pain and paint it over
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down

song performed by Spandau Ballet
Added by Lucian Velea
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Connection

Unused lyrics at beginning of lyric sheet:
Warm.....round the hunting fire
Wrapped in the robes of the dead warrior
Protected from ferocious winds
Under the shield of the dead gladiator
Standing in the darkness of this stagecraft
All is black I cannot see your faces I need
Light I want to see your eyes
Let my voice wash over your faces
Connection
Connection
Whoaa ohhh
A hundred thousand years ago
People livin in bone white cities
Comin and goin on streets of silver
Talkin future history
Then something very strong went wrong
And suddenly
People gathered round the hunting fires
(huddled in caves like animal, not human)
Round the warmth of the late night fire
Cities gone, memories fading
Spend their lives round the late night fire
Give their souls to the hunting fire
Seeking each others company
Tryin to remember ancient history
They lost connection
They lost contact
They need to touch you
Reach out across the ages and touch you
Meanwhile somewhere in the 20th century
A young girl named phoebe caulfield
Plops herself down on the sofa
Pops open a soda and watches you
She likes to watch murderer talk
She likes to see them on my tv
She likes to watch them how they walk
She likes to hear what they say
Its like a car crash
Bloody fascination
You wonder how they get their shoes tied
Sit and stare at the horror there
She knows you watch them too
Stranglers, murderers, snipers, terrorists
Political assassins, crazy ones, cool ones
All them looking for
Connection
They lost contact
They lost direction
They need sexual, mystical

[...] Read more

song performed by Jefferson Starship
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fra Lippo Lippi

I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave!
You need not clap your torches to my face.
Zooks, what's to blame? you think you see a monk!
What, 'tis past midnight, and you go the rounds,
And here you catch me at an alley's end
Where sportive ladies leave their doors ajar?
The Carmine's my cloister: hunt it up,
Do—harry out, if you must show your zeal,
Whatever rat, there, haps on his wrong hole,
And nip each softling of a wee white mouse,
Weke, weke, that's crept to keep him company!
Aha, you know your betters! Then, you'll take
Your hand away that's fiddling on my throat,
And please to know me likewise. Who am I?
Why, one, sir, who is lodging with a friend
Three streets off—he's a certain...how d'ye call?
Master—a...Cosimo of the Medici,
I' the house that caps the corner. Boh! you were best!
Remember and tell me, the day you're hanged,
How you affected such a gullet's gripe!
But you, sir, it concerns you that your knaves
Pick up a manner nor discredit you:
Zooks, are we pilchards, that they sweep the streets
And count fair prize what comes into this net?
He's Judas to a tittle, that man is!
Just such a face! Why, sir, you make amends.
Lord, I'm not angry! Bid your hangdogs go
Drink out this quarter-florin to the health
Of the munificent House that harbors me
(And many more beside, lads! more beside!)
And all's come square again. I'd like his face—
His, elbowing on his comrade in the door
With the pike and lantern—for the slave that holds
John Baptist's head a-dangle by the hair
With one hand ("Look you, now," as who should say)
And his weapon in the other, yet unwiped!
It's not your chance to have a bit of chalk,
A wood-coal or the like? or you should see!
Yes, I'm the painter, since you style me so.
What, brother Lippo's doings, up and down,
You know them and they take you? like enough!
I saw the proper twinkle in your eye—
'Tell you, I liked your looks at very first.
Let's sit and set things straight now, hip to haunch.
Here's spring come, and the nights one makes up bands
To roam the town and sing out carnival,
And I've been three weeks shut within my mew,
A-painting for the great man, saints and saints
And saints again. I could not paint all night—
Ouf! I leaned out of window for fresh air.

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sign-Board

I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
And hang it above your door;
A truer and better signboard
Than ever you had before.
I will paint with the skill of a master,
And many shall pause to see
This wonderful piece of painting,
So like the reality.

I will paint yourself, rumseller,
As you wait for that fair young boy,
Just in the morning of manhood,
A mother's pride and joy.
He has no thought of stopping,
But you greet him with a smile,
And you seem so blithe and friendly,
That he pauses to chat awhile.

I will paint you again, rumseller,
I will paint you as you stand,
With a foaming glass of liquor
Extended in your hand.
He wavers, but you urge him-
Drink, pledge me just this one!
And he takes the glass and drains it,
And the hellish work is done.

And next I will paint a drunkard-
Only a year has flown,
But into that loathsome creature
The fair young boy has grown.
The work was sure and rapid.
I will paint him as he lies
In a torpid, drunken slumber,
Under the wintry skies.

I will paint the form of the mother
As she kneels at her darling's side,
Her beautiful boy that was dearer
Than all the world beside.
I will paint the shape of a coffin,
Labeled with one word-'lost,'
I will paint all this, rumseller,
And will paint it free of cost.

[...] Read more

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Signboard

I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
And hang it above your door;
A truer and better signboard
Than ever you had before.
I will paint with the skill of a master,
And many shall pause to see
This wonderful piece of painting,
So like the reality.

I will paint yourself, rumseller,
As you wait for that fair young boy,
Just in the morning of manhood,
A mother’s pride and joy.
He has no thought of stopping,
But you greet him with a smile
And you seem so blithe and friendly,
That he pauses a chat awhile.

I will paint you again, rumseller,
I will paint you as you stand,
With a foaming glass of liquor
Extended in your hand.
He wavers, but you urge him –
Drink, pledge me just this one!
And he takes the glass and drains it,
And the hellish work is done.

And next I will paint a drunkard –
Only a year has flown,
But into that loathesome creature
The fair young boy has grown.
The work was sure and rapid.
I will paint him as he lies
In a torpid, drunken slumber,
Under the wintry skies.

I will paint the form of the mother
As she kneels at her darling’s side,
Her beautiful boy that was dearer
Than all the world beside.
I will paint the shape of a coffin
Labelled with one word – ‘Lost’
I will paint all this, rumseller,
And will paint it free of cost.

The sin and the shame and the sorrow,
The crime and the want and the woe
That are born there in your workshop,
No hand can paint, you know
But I’ll paint you a sign, rumseller,

[...] Read more

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Added by Poetry Lover
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Last Instructions to a Painter

After two sittings, now our Lady State
To end her picture does the third time wait.
But ere thou fall'st to work, first, Painter, see
If't ben't too slight grown or too hard for thee.
Canst thou paint without colors? Then 'tis right:
For so we too without a fleet can fight.
Or canst thou daub a signpost, and that ill?
'Twill suit our great debauch and little skill.
Or hast thou marked how antic masters limn
The aly-roof with snuff of candle dim,
Sketching in shady smoke prodigious tools?
'Twill serve this race of drunkards, pimps and fools.
But if to match our crimes thy skill presumes,
As th' Indians, draw our luxury in plumes.
Or if to score out our compendious fame,
With Hooke, then, through the microscope take aim,
Where, like the new Comptroller, all men laugh
To see a tall louse brandish the white staff.
Else shalt thou oft thy guiltless pencil curse,
Stamp on thy palette, not perhaps the worse.
The painter so, long having vexed his cloth--
Of his hound's mouth to feign the raging froth--
His desperate pencil at the work did dart:
His anger reached that rage which passed his art;
Chance finished that which art could but begin,
And he sat smiling how his dog did grin.
So mayst thou pérfect by a lucky blow
What all thy softest touches cannot do.

Paint then St Albans full of soup and gold,
The new court's pattern, stallion of the old.
Him neither wit nor courage did exalt,
But Fortune chose him for her pleasure salt.
Paint him with drayman's shoulders, butcher's mien,
Membered like mules, with elephantine chine.
Well he the title of St Albans bore,
For Bacon never studied nature more.
But age, allayed now that youthful heat,
Fits him in France to play at cards and treat.
Draw no commission lest the court should lie,
That, disavowing treaty, asks supply.
He needs no seal but to St James's lease,
Whose breeches wear the instrument of peace;
Who, if the French dispute his power, from thence
Can straight produce them a plenipotence..
Nor fears he the Most Christian should trepan
Two saints at once, St Germain, St Alban,
But thought the Golden Age was now restored,
When men and women took each other's word.

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Marvell
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Colors Of The Wind

You think you own whatever land you land on
The earth is just a dead thing you can claim
But I know evry rock and tree and creature
Has a life, has a spirit, has a name
You think the only people who are people
Are the people who look and think like you
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
Youll learn things you never knew you never knew
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned ?
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth
Come roll in all the riches all around you
And for once, never wonder what theyre worth
The rainstorm and the river are my brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
In a cirle, in a hoop that never ends
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or let the eagle tell you there hes been
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
How high does the sycamore grow ?
If you cut it down, then youll never know
And youll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
For whether we are white or copper-skinned
We just sing with all the voices of the mountain
Need to paint with all the colors of the wind
You can own the earth and still
All youll own is earth until
You can paint with all colors of the wind

song performed by Vanessa Williams
Added by Lucian Velea
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Painter’s Agony

I want to paint that river
And the scene behind it
The boat and the boatmen
I know everything about
That river

My association with the river
Many a hundred memories
Evenings and sunshines
Floods and slow water
I have lived my life
On the bank of that river
I want to paint
Paint it with the most beautiful colors
I want to borrow some colors
From the colors of paradise

And I love the town
That lives beside the river
Old and dusty
Where shall I take you
In that small town
Every nook and corner
Shall tell you that it knows me
I want to paint that town
In colors of heaven
I want to carry a few children
And take them on a tour
I want to see the town with their eyes
And then go to the riverbank
And meditate for a while
Drink the wine of nature
And get lost into the world of beauty
And flow with the river

Enter every house
My heart throbs in harmony
With every heart in the town
Give me colors divine
Colors from the other world
For I want to paint
That river and that town
(This poem is about a small town on the bank of river Indus)

poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Added by Poetry Lover
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Spots On A Paint Rag

Spots on a paint rag trying to figure out
if they're part of a larger picture.
Daubs and smudges and smears of black and red.
Topographies of dry thick ridges of blue acrylic,
peach-coloured mesas bruised
by the encroaching violets of dusk in a painted desert.
Are these the wanna-be windows of life
who failed to achieve a whole and harmonious view
of what they're doing here swiping off knives
thick with the gore of cadmium red,
cleaning off brushes that get to go out
on the field to caress and poke
stars and trees into being? Waterboys, not players.

I say the word, life, and I feel tonight like
the heaviness of a bell that's supplanted my heart.
The right root, but the wrong blossom.
Even though I'd melt that bell
back down into raucous cannon
to defend the concept to my very last breath.
But tonight I'm tunnelling under the foundations
of the cornerstones of life to bring
the walls down on top of my head,
like an avalanche of prophetic skulls
to just get a peek inside the grand paradigm,
the white light of the gessoed underpainting.
The secret garden with low-hanging fruit
on easy street with the sacred whores of Babylon.

An existential sadness, deep as a death-wound,
as if I'd just been stabbed in the heart
by the hands of a clock that mistook me for an intruder,
undermines me from below, a pyramid built on quicksand.
As if all those who had drowned in life
like fish up over their gills in water
were swimming in the watershed of every tear
that almost makes it up over the top of the dam
I try to throw up like a manly front to what
I know I won't be able to hold back for long.

And there go the villages in the flooded valley
I tried to live among like a neighbourly mountain
come to Muhammad on the way up and down.
It's cold and lonely and the air is thin
at the peaks of experience, with only
a star and a cloud for company.
The hard diamond in the rough I used to be
has grown mushy over the years. Tears.
Imagine that. Warm, salt seas with undulant tides
of emotion coursing in and out,

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
Added by Poetry Lover
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Tight Connection To My Heart

You got a tight connection to my heart
You got a tight connection to my heart
You got a tight connection to my heart
You got a tight connection to my heart
Well, I had to move fast
And I couldn't with you around my neck
I said I'd send for you and I did
What did you expect?
My hands are sweating
And we haven't even started yet.
I'll go along with the charade
Until I can think my way out.
I know it was all a big joke
Whatever it was about.
Someday maybe
I'll remember to forget.
I'm gonna get my coat.
I feel the breath of a storm.
There's something I've got to do tonight,
You go inside and stay warm.
Has anybody seen my love,
Has anybody seen my love,
Has anybody seen my love,
I don't know.
Has anybody seen my love?
You want to talk to me.
Go ahead and talk.
Whatever you got to say to me
Won't come as any shock.
I must be guilty of something
You just whisper it into my ear
Madame Butterfly
She lulled me to sleep.
In a town without pity
Where the water runs deep.
She said, 'Be easy baby.
There ain't nothing worth stealin' in here'
You're the one I've been looking for
You're the one that's got the key
But I can't figure out whether I'm too good for you
Or you're too good for me
Has anybody seen my love,
Has anybody seen my love,
Has anybody seen my love,
Has anybody seen my love?
Well they're not showing any lights tonight
And there's no moon.
There's just a hot blooded singer
Singing 'Memphis in June'
And they're beatin' the devil out of a guy

[...] Read more

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Paint Dimensionality Soul In Oils

if I painted pictures
I would draw you in charcoal
wash away drama tears in watercolours
paint dimensionality of durability soul in oils
span a universe of senses touch emotions thoughts

if I painted pictures
I would paint dream images
I would paint visions of inner mind's eye
I would paint life in veils swirling kaleidoscopic moods
I would paint canvasses imprinting fabric expanding universes

but I travel eons far
load canvasses are too heavy
I walk journey through many phase worlds
seasons landscapes in many climates beckon bled feet
I paint mind songs in words life haunting edges spaces

swallow flame words into soul at own risk
I paint distances between seen unseen at world's edges
I paint portraits above beneath mask as multi veils
I paint shift faces figures skin deeds intended done deeds
I paint poetry life in shifting kaleidoscopic images souls

poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
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Purple And Silver

frozen evenings
on me, they camp greetings
intruding me to the dark feelings
demolishing any happy traces
that i once discovered
teardropp cases, these faces
never seem to get em' outta my head
paint in purple, paint it silver

track a train
to the valley of midnight pain
which i once suffered
i still suffer
when we look back to the spring shower
they left us, leaving poison flowers
i extracted the pulp
she wrapped the words
we made a bomb
mark our words
paint them purple, paint them silver

bang bang now check this out
heavy storm outside
reminds me of one inside
tornado of tears
volcano of fears
but they had to hit
and hit they did
birth of a kid
off color white
put up a fight
listening to 9 crimes
i've been given too much time
he did his part
i broke mine fast
paint it silver
msg delivered
paint it purple
i start to crumble

over the top
the boat beneath the blue whale
river of lost got a new sail
they met the pain at the oceans date
cross the fence in senses
sit at the last bench
bury the drench

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poem by Talal Athar
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