Poet
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883 creative works found
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I am inspired by the ocean and pairing this image of the elegant and powerful ocean with the gentleness of the poetic musings of the poetry of Rumi is an excellent marriage of the muscles of the sea and the spiritual inspiration of Rumi’s poem, “The Thirsty Fish.” / The ocean evokes feelings of awe, timelessness, reflection, silence and the truly divine. Great poets like Rumi, the most-read and greatest spiritual poet of our time comes to mind. Coleman Barks’ intrepretations are the ears for the divine madness in Rumis poetry. Barks, a renowned poet himself is the bestselling author and free-form interpreter of Rumi’s volumes of poetry. His remarkable interpretations of Rumi’s inspired renderings are food for the soul for tired modern people who can find renewal and inspiration through his words. No one does Rumi better than Coleman Barks. Rumi’s poetry mirrors back to us an ocean of woven speech too intricate and dynamic for any grammarian to untangle. His mystical voices come from many points on the inner-outer spectrum. I am pairing this oceanscape with one of Rumi’s beautiful metaphorical poems, The Thirsty Fish. ”I dont get tired of you. Don’t grow weary of being compassionate toward me? All this thirst equipment must surely be tired of me, the water jar, the water carrier, I have a thirsty fish in me that can never find enough of what its thirsts for! Show me the way to the ocean! Break these half-measures, These small containers All this fantasy and Grief Let my house be drowned in the wave. That rose last night out of the courtyard Hidden in the center of my chest. Joseph fell like the moon into my well. The harvest I expected was washed away But no matter, A fire has risen above my tombstone hat. I dont want learning, or dignity, Or respectability. I want this music and this dawn And the warmth of your cheek against mine, The grief-armies assemble, but Im not going with them. This is how it always is When I finish a poem. A great silence overcomes me And I wonder why I ever thought to use language. The Essential Rumi / Translation: Coleman Barks
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written in early 1995 Image by the talented artists Charles Winslow and Marny Barnes as seen here
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This is similar to a previous portrait however that one was on paper, whereas this is on canvas. subject: Henry Charles Bukowski (1920 – 1994) was an influential Los Angeles poet and novelist. Bukowski’s writing was heavily influenced by the geography and atmosphere of his home city of Los Angeles. A prolific author, Bukowski wrote thousands of poems, hundreds of short stories, and six novels, eventually having more than fifty books in print. He is often remembered as “The Poet Laureate of Skid Row”. read more on wikipedia.org / ............................................................................................. / medium: Charcoal pencils and acrylic paint on stretched canvas. The artwork has been varnished. Ready-to-hang, no frame required. All materials are acid-free and archival. / ............................................................................................. / size: 29.7×42cm (A3). A 1cm border on all sides has been left unmarked. / ............................................................................................. / / ............................................................................................. / New original art listed every Sunday night in my eBay store
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Tamar coffee house was founded in 1941. / It is located in Shenkin street number 57. / It is one of most famous places in Tel aviv. / It is a meeting place of writers poets and media people. / You can seat there all the day on cup of coffee. The slogen on the weighing machine: “Shalom Haver” which means Goodbye friend, this are the words of Bill Clinton the president of the United States in the funeral of Yizchak Rabin the prime minister of Israel which was murdered in November 4 1995. Sehnkin street is one of the favorite entertainment centers of Tel Aviv.
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View from Grasmere Village. Views of Grasmere from any direction are dramatic and pretty. Poet william Wordsworth lived in three homes around Grasmere, the most famous being Dove cottage. Dove Cottage is now the Wordsworth museum and Art gallery.
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My friend Lora Mae wrote these lovely lines after viewing one of my bird photos. She said the tiny bird inspired these thoughts in her. I coupled her words with a photo of a Tufted Titmouse. Please visit LoraMae’s gallery. It’s a real treat. She is a kind, sensitive, candid writer who cuts to the chase and brings to the surface in a refreshing way some of the conditions we as humans experience day by day. You can find her space by clicking on the image below:
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - Oil portrait - American Poet 1807 – 1882. / A man of great ferocious tempo and histories. Still one of the most popular of our poets: Hiawatha, The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere, etc. / Henry Longfellow lived almost fifty years of his life while Queen Victoria ruled Britain from 1837 – 1901. There may have been some concentrated American effort to stand apart by lauding our pioneers and savage North America, and it sure wasn’t thwarted by being politically correct. Imagine while high tea was being mimicked on Park Avenue, this famous yankee poet had the courage to come up with the swashbuckling but doomed fantasy (loosely based on history c.1400) that started on the shores of Gitche Gumee, progressed to Daughter of the Moon Nokomis and right up and into the shining Big Sea Water! It was an instant & roaring success. Enough feathers were ruffled to make parodies galore, but it’s 125 years later and I’m not the only one who still remembers Longfellow’s words and wants a feather in my braid. The story teller poets were marvelous conjurers, Longfellow one of the best. / I met Nokomis when I was about seven years old and longed to make that birch bark canoe, moonlight, and woody adventureland my own. And Longfellow’s incredible epic of courage, mysticism, language, wildlife, and natives on these shores remain about one of the greatest tributes to Indian nations ever composed by anybody.
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Zen Poet Ryokan zen haiga ink painting sumi-e
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Another photo in my clouds series. I felt like I was enveloped in clouds / while driving in Los Angeles. This is an unusual break from the crowded freeways of weekday traffic. I shot this through the windshield so I choose artistic intent over seeking perfection which is a healthy step for me as a self-taught photograper. It is very easy to become addicted to photography and RB and in time like the clouds, we can feel overwhelmed without much time to pay attention to our vocation and/or advocation. Although I don’t have the time to comment on all the talented artists on RB, or to respond to everyone who has been so supportive of my work and the host of the group, the healing journey, I am very appreciative of your comments. I had heard there was a group / clouds so I just checked it out. The name of the group is “both sides / now.” Even when posted, we always have the choice to remove the photo (at least that is what I tell myself :) Since I associate to many songs when taking photographs, at times I think I have an ipod in my head. Joni Mitchell wrote a song in the 60’s that was covered by many artists. In addition to loving her poetic and legendary songs, the song that she wrote, “Both Sides Now” is timeless. The song using the metaphor of clouds, captured the mood of the day and is symbolic of the dark and light realms of the human condition. If we look for it, the light will shine through. There was so much to see on this cloudy day that I am glad I was not driving. This image has the most impact when viewed in the large format. My first perception is a lady in the upper right corner. I look forward to reading some of your perceptions of this cloudy skyscape. “Rows and floes of angel hair / And ice cream castles in the air / And feather canyons everywhere / Ive looked at clouds that way But now they only block the sun / They rain and snow on evryone / So many things I would have done / But clouds got in my way / Ive looked at clouds from both sides now / From up and down, and still somehow / Its cloud illusions I recall / I really dont know clouds at all Moons and junes and ferris wheels / The dizzy dancing way you feel / As evry fairy tale comes real / Ive looked at love that way But now its just another show / You leave em laughing when you go / And if you care, dont let them know / Dont give yourself away Ive looked at love from both sides now / From give and take, and still somehow / Its loves illusions I recall / I really dont know love at all Tears and fears and feeling proud / To say I love you right out loud / Dreams and schemes and circus crowds / Ive looked at life that way But now old friends are acting strange / They shake their heads, they say Ive changed / Well somethings lost, but somethings gained / In living evry day Ive looked at life from both sides now / From win and lose and still somehow / Its lifes illusions I recall / I really dont know life at all / Ive looked at life from both sides now / From up and down, and still somehow / Its lifes illusions I recall / I really dont know life at all.” Joni Mitchell
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s . p . a . c . e ( the watermark on the enlarged image is not on the actual print )
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Traveling Again by Du Fu I remember the temple, this route I’ve travelled before, / I recall the bridge as I cross it again. / It seems the hills and rivers have been waiting, / The flowers and willows all are selfless now. / The field is sleek and vivid, thin mist shines, / On soft sand, the sunlight’s colour shows it’s late. / All the traveller’s sorrow fades away, / What better place to rest than this?
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model: Jessica Walker
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Robert Burns (25 January 1759 – 21 July 1796) (also known as Rabbie Burns, Scotland’s favourite son, the Ploughman Poet, the Bard of Ayrshire and in Scotland as simply The Bard1) was a Scottish poet and a lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland, and is celebrated worldwide. He is the best known of the poets who have written in the Scots language, although much of his writing is also in English and a ‘light’ Scots dialect, accessible to an audience beyond Scotland. He also wrote in standard English, and in these pieces, his political or civil commentary is often at its most blunt. / This statue stands in Stanley Park.
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Thy Name is Poet
by Kristin ReynoldsSome poets write with a rapier blade, / meaning to cut a thing down / to its bare-boned ism. Others write of fanciful affairs with a voi…
Just a poem that could have gone on infinitly, writing about some of the different styles, forms, kinds, moments of writing and writers. and, most importantly, the absoluteness of writing!
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When Pan is on Vacation
by Kristin Reynolds…with his dancing feet / propped up; / his hands behind his head; / his spine cradled / by cotton rope lattice, / _(it is a specially woven …
This is what I see happening when my muse, Pan, decides to go on vacation. :)
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It just simply is Passing through like strangers in the moment, / Not looking or wondering just continuing on, as if. / Sands of time come quicker and quicker, / Where’d it all go? / Looking back you wonder, why? / Nothing you can do to change it. / Only to carry on in the moment, / It is what it is, someone once told me, / And now, I know it just simply is / Virginia N Fred Captiva Island, Florida
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