Poetry poet
296 creative works found
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In Ode, Intimations of Immortality from Reflections of Early Childhood, William Wordswoth wrote: Though nothing can bring back the hour / Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower / We will grieve not, but rather find / Strength in what remains behind. I was reminded of those lines when I saw a single blade of grass that had gone to seed and was blooming deep in the woods. The tiny flowers were a sight to behold.
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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 on 185gsm Arches medium-tooth paper. 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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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: Compressed graphite and charcoal pencils on stretched canvas. Acrylic paint was used for the lettering. The artwork has been thoroughly fixed and varnished. Ready-to-hang, no frame required. All materials are acid-free and archival. / ............................................................................................. / size: 50cm x 60cm / ............................................................................................. / / ............................................................................................. / New original art listed every Sunday night in my eBay store
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Because You're Not A Poet
by Jboo09Don’t forget dear, / that I am a poet / I could slaughter you with words like razor blades
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“All the charm of all the Muses… / often flowering in a lonely word.” Alfred, Lord Tennyson Face: SD-stock http://sd-stock.deviantart.com/art/Spring-Wall-Hanging-63930447 / Textures: Hibbary http://hibbary.deviantart.com/art/paper-textures-75974801 / Brushes: Merrym http://merrym.deviantart.com / Swirls: http://www.sxc.hu/photo/941243 / Smoke: http://www.sxc.hu/photo/704194 / All else: My own photo stock ©2007-2008 Aimee Stewart, Foxfires / All of my artwork and photographs are © All Rights Reserved Worldwide. / My artwork and photos do not belong to the public domain.
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Insanity
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The Metamorphoses by the Roman poet Ovid is a narrative poem in fifteen books that describes the creation and history of the world. Written in 8 AD, it has remained one of the most popular works of mythology, being the Classical work best known to medieval writers and thus having a great deal of influence on medieval poetry. Wax, ink, pigment and watercolour
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a crisp morning in the mountains. “the fog” keep clumping and moving about in these type shapes. there was no breeze. Paranormal The Norm
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Emily Dickinson again: The daisy follows soft the sun, / And when his golden walk is done, / Sits shyly at his feet. / He, waking, finds the flower near. / “Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?” / “Because, sir, love is sweet!” / / We are the flower, Thou the sun! / Forgive us, if as days decline, / We nearer steal to Thee, / Enamoured of the parting west, / The peace, the flight, the amethyst, / Night’s possibility!
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Tennyson, Byron and Burns and Scott…all poets from long ago. I’m so priviledged to have these books. They have been in my family for such a long time. Tennyson for 109 years, Byron for 122 years and Burns and Scott for 129 years. They are so old and fragileand I carefully turn the pages and read some poems. I’m transported back in time with each reading. / Featured in Art for Bubble Hosts on 14 May 2009 / Uploaded 17 January 2009 Placed in the top ten of the Womans Photographer Group Challenge 17 April 2009
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Johnny in love…
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Title from a poem “Buttercup, Poppy, Forget-me-Not” by Eugene Field (1850–1895). An 18 layer composite produced in Photoshop and Painter.
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For a woman considered to be a virgin spinster, I often wondered about Emily Dickinson’s most erotic poem about wild nights, rowing, and mooring within another. A tribute, this. Image of Emily Dickinson —Emily Dickinson Wild nights! Wild nights! / Were I with thee, / Wild nights should be / Our luxury! Futile the winds / To a heart in port, / Done with the compass, / Done with the chart. Rowing in Eden! / Ah! the sea! / Might I but moor / To-night in thee! Featured in the Group: The Sisterhood / Featured in the Group: Show Me a Sign / Featured in the Group: Out of the Past Part of the Thinkers/Genius Series Nausicäa / Pocket Full of Stones / And I Am Apple Orchard / Sam I Am / The Human Condition / So What / A Love Supreme / I Think / Revolutionary / What Thoughts I Have of You Tonight, Walt Whitman /
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I’ve tried the new moon tilted in the air / Above a hazy tree-and-farmhouse cluster / As you might try a jewel in your hair. / I’ve tried it fine with little breadth of luster, / Alone, or in one ornament combining / With one first-water start almost shining. I put it shining anywhere I please. / By walking slowly on some evening later, / I’ve pulled it from a crate of crooked trees, / And brought it over glossy water, greater, / And dropped it in, and seen the image wallow, / The color run, all sorts of wonder follow….... Words by American poet Robert Frost (1874 -1963) Painting using acrylic, inks and pigment. / 102×42cm Music – Momentos de Paz – Phoenix Appeal and see all the other artists that are helping victims of The Bushfires in whatever way they can. Your work counts and Australia needs your support….Please Help! Please join The Wildlife Appeal Group – & – Phoenix Appeal and see all the other artists that are helping victims of The Bushfires in whatever way they can. Your work counts and Australia needs your support….Please Help!
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The Poet.. Diligently writing and contemplating on his internal thoughts until they reach his heart and soul. Eventually, his thoughts begin to reach the paper for everyone to see..
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The Poet's Self-Portrait
by erika15All these words we create / All these thoughts and emotions we articulate, / we weave into poems / and make a quilt of wonders All these …
Want to know my life story? / Read my poems. This is what I would say to the world if they wanted to know who I was. I wrote this poem in early April, but I felt like it was missing something, or I thought it was too plain or too repetitive. But I can’t figure out what to change, and I haven’t made many changes from when I first wrote it. I think I just wrote a bunch of thoughts down instead of writing a poem. But I just decided to upload it anyway. Tell me what you think. This is dedicated to all poets and writers.
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This painting is the piece of the series of Memory ; / The Past And Forever / Love Is All / Another Time, Another Word / Always And Forever / Sisters / Sunset In Paradise / Oil on canvas 90cmX 120cm. / This for you Terezkem , my lovely daughter , she died when she was nearly 15 …… Thank you my friends your comments and support mean a lot to me. I had this pain bottled up in me so so long… but I knew and hoped with time passing things will change and turn out good… I was right, things started to unfold last week and I could just see and feel it. Working with this wonderful model just inspired me and brought all those feelings up from my heart, bones and my most inner part. I loved every minutes of it and it gave me a wonderful peace of mind. A big thank you for ANAISNAIS who let to share her beautiful poem here: / ””OH MY… / Oh my pretty lady / what depths do you bide? / Seductive’s your body, / your head held with pride / Your bountiful form / shows your bosoms desire / and naked you hide still / your depths so on fire / As eyes do move loser / with interest to seek, / through misty white clouds / two arms they do peek. / Yet they’re not of your own / for yours fall at your side, / and these wrapped around you / near the nest you do hide. / Your face shows eyes longing / a deeply set love, / and mouth blushed, unmoving, / rose cheeks just above. / On your mossy green bed, / through this picture I see, / you are settled in love / with someone that’s not me. / Yet things are not right, / I can see by the flowers / for their heads are a drooping, / like they’ve cried tears for hours. / Oh my pretty lady, / your body’s your own / You can still say no. / Life it can change / and minds petals still grow.’‘ / All Origional art work can be purchased through the artist. —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-——- Copyright notice: / All rights reserved. All images contained on these pages are © copyright protected by Mariska and any use of these images in any form without written permission will be considered an infringement of these copyrights.
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One more photo composite. FEATURED in Gods and Goddesses ~ many thanks to the group hosts! Beautiful female model, with thanks! / Handsome guy~with thanks! This photo was inspired by the brilliant poetic work of Linaji who gave me permission to post her poem, Skip This Moment. Profound thanks and abundant hugs to Linaji!! Skip This Moment / I want to skip this moment, / It is painful / Pain / Feeling a squeeze in the eyes / tightening of the forehead / Solar plexus feels the beginnings of / The pinpointed black hole / Insatiable and resistant / Sucking sounds like moans from a moth / Mind goes foggy this time as / I don’t want to know / why / Cause I know / Why / I want to skip this moment / It is painful, / No torture legislation needed nor / CIA sponges soaking me drowning me / Perhaps that is preferable / Just that feeling I won’t have what / I want / Feeling the first drops roll down my / Cheek / The left one. / The words start to form in the brain / ‘I miss him’ Linaji 2009
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Thief of Hands
by Kristin ReynoldsSlicing through my midnight train / they come, / eluding time and aim; / where memory stiff – / a bleeding frame – / from which to hang / my dr…
I wrote this in trying to convey the way of The Midnight Poetry Syphoning Process; the crossing dreamtime/ethereal barriers us human’s trying to be have; diving into the ocean of stars to bring to page that which teases…but doesn’t really wish to be caught. / It’s like that sometimes, for me. Those sneaky word-strings that hum into my ear in the middle of the night…sometimes they want to be caught…other times I feel like they are just sirens. / Pan is my muse. And as Golom would say, “Pan is tricksy!” / But boy do i love him anyway!
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Poe
by ZOMBIE RUSTEdgar Allan Poe (1809–1849) / Quick portrait. Inks.
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All Poets Must Die
by H M BascomMy life poured on this gruesome page again / Talentless vultures wait to pick my bones
Poets Suffer by Sally Omar / MCN:CSCKP-XWN8Y-DK1K5 Copyright Notice / © 2005-2009 Helen M. Bascom / All rights reserved. None of the materials provided on this web page may be used, reproduced or transmitted, in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or the use of any information storage and retrieval system, downloading, printing, or linking without permission in writing from Helen M. Bascom. Removal of electronic copyright information, digital fingerprints, or embedded watermarks on any image is strictly prohibited. To request permission to use any material on this page, to link to any image, and for further inquiries, contact Ms. Bascom by email. CLICK HERE to submit your request.
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writing the wormholes
by Kristin Reynoldspulling understanding / from the faces of the minds / and the eyes / of the seers / who’ve passed breathing them in… knowing…
I wrote this last year about reading to writing to knowing the poets heart; dead, alive, makes no matter, when they are read, felt, understood, they are as alive as the reader; sharing an intimate moment as if the poet and reader were in the same room; a quiet, beautiful love affair of words and souls. / At least, this is what I feel when reading the great poetry.
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Under The Sink
by Assef Al-JundiBut what was ignited? / Who lit the fuse?
This poem was previously featured in “In These Latitudes, Ten Contemporary Poets”, published by Wings Press in 2008, Roberto Bonazzi, Editor.
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Designed with 5/7/5, 17-syllable haiku and digital art. I had this here before but was having trouble with cropping, so I’m trying it again after resizing the file. I have designed a line of haiku cards; 70 total to-date. I sell them over at Zazzle and am bringing some of them to RB.
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