Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ryn Aug 2021
A palette blessed
with every possible shade
and hue there is…

But somehow,
the colours are all wrong
the moment
they meet the canvas.
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2020
Sept. 5th, 2020, 6:35am (wondrous palette)

the sun risen, but a solid foothold as of yet unestablished;
the new day’s skies borrow coloration from nearby sources,
no unique identity bright enough as of yet to call its own;
thin cumulus streaks, striate against an unidentifiable blue
paleness, more to contrast than to claim,  “here we are!

the bay is in labor: multi hues of blue intermingle, as the
light illuminates each part differentially; soon enough,
one hue will come to dominate, just like you, soon enough,
a single hue will dominate, and this day will be distinct,
and who knows? perhaps even distinctive enough to be
memorialized.

minute to minute is the ever changing interplay; unlike a
human, this rapidity maturation is unafraid to experiment
with new combinations but-based on prior recalled self-
examination; something on the water, a small boat low and
close flat to the surficial; a skiff, a rowboat with no oars,
drifting, languishing on the fishing spot, unmoving unhurried
humans aboard, thinking, this is the good way to start living

last comment; tiny hinting shades of violet, pink and orange
exist, hard to discern so well blended are they with the norm
of broader blue and vanilla white and then all readily apparent!
this is the new days message, we are what we appear to be,
one earth, one sky, indivisible but born from
a wondrous palette;
and so yet another first poem of the day is created, a verbal
prélude, étude, unique but a product of its many ancestral
predecessors, just like
, we the people.
spring's color palette
paints a resplendent canvas
of floral glories
Salmabanu Hatim Jul 2019
When my wife died,
I was torn apart,
Broken from inside,
Then dad took me to my old studio,
He handed me a palette of colours and a brush,
"Son paint your emptiness  in colours and come out smiling.
15/7/2019
Lost in assumptions and conclusions
Living amongst influences and illusions
How easy it is to lose my sense of self

While drowning in other's expectations
That often discourages original creations
I consider just being like everyone else

But to go down a path already made
Starves me of the adventure that I crave
And an undaunted outlook I have not yet felt

I am a palette among paintings
Still in the process of creating
A new colour to call myself
AJ Feb 2019
I was handed a palette full of vibrant colours and asked to paint my home.

I painted for hours, and then I took a step back only to realize that I painted your arms.
May Elizabeth Nov 2018
Your face more blurred
Than the paint
          Smudged
On my palette

My colours reflect
          Work
And patience
Yours reflect
           Pain
                And
                    Torture.

The same pain
Inflicted on you
By the world
Inflicted on me
By your hands
           More intoxicated
Than your breath.
This is inspired by Van Gogh's pain palette that is in a glass case in an exhibit at the Rijks museum in Amsterdam.
Silverflame Nov 2018
The love you paint in my heart,
looks more like vandalism than art.
Next page