Quotes about canvass, page 9
CANVASS-3(Azure) -revised
CANVASS—3(azure) -revised
(Dedicated to Madam Marie Shine a great soul and Irish poet)
my sky is azure today
like the London sky
over the Thames
like the Calcutta sky
in the winter evening
with smog
like the Delhi sky
overcast with fog
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poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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Ghost of Paris
Fauvist moon smooth like Newton
Relative without warning
Nothing shall stop the coming cubes
Ulysses talks a new language
Sate painters in café haven
Change the motif of dragons
Avengers of amethyst poetry
Language of the future laughs
Choreographed in splinters of war
Stravinsky dances without melody
Gertrude Stein sighs like a panther
Art fornicates with Paris
Form relinquishes like deco stars
Boundaries melt into stage sets
Embrace the modern deluge
Freedom and choice celebrate
Boundless sea of color
Surrealism tides of the Mediterranean
Chagall, Matisse, Picasso, Braque
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poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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In a London Drawingroom
The sky is cloudy, yellowed by the smoke.
For view there are the houses opposite
Cutting the sky with one long line of wall
Like solid fog: far as the eye can stretch
Monotony of surface & of form
Without a break to hang a guess upon.
No bird can make a shadow as it flies,
For all is shadow, as in ways o'erhung
By thickest canvass, where the golden rays
Are clothed in hemp. No figure lingering
Pauses to feed the hunger of the eye
Or rest a little on the lap of life.
All hurry on & look upon the ground,
Or glance unmarking at the passers by
The wheels are hurrying too, cabs, carriages
All closed, in multiplied identity.
The world seems one huge prison-house & court
Where men are punished at the slightest cost,
With lowest rate of colour, warmth & joy.
poem by George Eliot
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Now Going Back To A Little Seriousness About Life
i have give you a list of games
a to z, back to z then a, and you gape at me
unable to believe,
finding it so hard to believe that in the middle of the city
during a blackout i can be
another black dog with eyes gleaming like
a pen light roaming around
a black canvass inside the movie house
where each hungry city dweller is looking for
something to hold
to eat and puke.
now going back to where we once were,
we never made us
they made us to do things that we do not really do
the way we did it,
we are constrained to escape from the doorsteps
of restraint,
and be free birds, white
in visions, twittering on sky blue skies
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Who did this to us?
We are not the stones to sculpt us to be the statues,
We are not the canvass to splash the colorful paint,
We are not the photocopiers to copy down monotonous,
We are the human, who have the will power and energy.
The earth can be plowed; the sun can be worshiped,
The moon can be respected; the planets can be monitored,
The wind can be moisturized; the water can be snowed,
We are the human, who can't be manipulated.
What value have we added to our life,
When we add the value to the products,
Properties, metals and commodities, sadly,
We have been dragged to the lonely world.
Who has dispersed these seeds of selfishness?
Are these dispersed through digital waves?
who has ignited the coil of humanity repellant,
to chase away the peace and leave us alone in pain?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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While Johnny and his section is on patrol
An artist paints a bushy landscape,
paints colours of a setting sun
with fleecy clouds hanging in the blue sky
while Johnny and his section is on patrol.
The canvass has a river where shots rang out,
an angry crocodile that tries to catch him,
black coots fly up and Johnny feels afraid,
when a trooper detonates a landmine,
three riflemen cover his position,
the enemy shoot with tracer bullets that draw lines,
they are caught unexpectedly by Johnny's return fire,
and flee from the very start of the fire-fight
with a wounded comrade that longs for God,
Johnny's men are brave and capable,
a soldier is shot to smithereens, lies droopy like a doll,
some distance away a hissing snake slithers,
to vomit is an unstoppable urge;
down at the marsh a long-tailed widow-bird flies.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Leap on a Whim...! ...Land on a Dime..! ...
...Leap on a whim!
...Land on a Dime!
Bathe in your dreams!
Attire yourself in wishes design!
Swirl Splattered Patterns
of vivid multi-color mind matter
'cross life's blank canvass!
Ghost write the pages!
Story board your own narrative!
Express life's beauty!
Express life's pain!
Pay homage to the Spirit!
- monuments honoring god and man!
- still life mirrors - nature's perfected portrait!
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poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Sunset at Jaisaalmar in Rajasthan
How they dwell there, the scorched landscape?
Camels and sheep bite and relish
some thorny plants dared to grow.
The dust clouds make the Sun dull.
Sitting over the camels and watching the sunset
on the sand dunes, people enjoy.
The Rajputs sing, clap and play instruments.
Damsels are ready to move their feet
for the beating of drums at dusk.
The vendors canvass the visitors
to taste their duff drinks.
When the Sun plunges into dark
clapping hands stop and children stand amazed.
The camels raise their heads
and bid goodnight to the Sun.
People pray to Him with folded hands.
With bleeding forehead,
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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The Gentlemen Of Canivaro
i look at him
as i look at myself, and i know
we have something in common,
that stupidity that is
buried in our
epidermal existence,
but we keep it so discreet within
our own
system, more into the secrets of the
arts,
the functionality of a cosine,
the realm of a stormy
state of
an athletic form,
(do not inject your own
vision, it may be destructive
to the canvass of
what life must be)
listen, this stupidity is
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Demons of peace
A plebeian pleated tattered garment of whirl,
Dusky, rusty, embodiment of rage,
Lingering on indigo witty night,
Mourned by carcase of lingering cave,
White strobe light heaped on garment praise,
Aimed with capricious nebula of glee,
The pickled flower bud of shrub,
Caper in lively recedes,
Chattering as if a canvass of homage
Sniffing for raja-tama to merge their vibration,
A hell of pensive ominous sonata,
Muffling gait precedes the gale,
A blaring vociferation,
Growling readily for attack,
They satisfy their lust,
Raping naked vistas with crevices,
To assimilate black concoct energy,
With a condiment by sorcerers.
Transmitting distressing sounds like earthquake,
Or running there-in-there-out with no cognizance but torrent.
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poem by Folayemi Akande
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