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Poems

Ann M Johnson Sep 2014
One day there was a bright glowing canvas, a pure sparkling white
It was beautiful, but not complete
Then someone came along and drew lines on it to form flowers and mountains and streams, it was more beautiful and it made the natural white look more distinct
Then one day someone else added color and the canvas radiated and became more and more complete, it seemed whole and functional
Suddenly, one day someone came along and slew the canvas, destroying its color till it showed black, and an ugly black
The canvas seems so drab so empty without its color, so lifeless
People refused to help the canvas, refused to anything about the canvas slayer refused to listen to the canvas’ plea
Instead the canvas slayer’s free to roam free to hurt and damage other canvas
Who will restore the canvas?
Who will bring justice?
Why is the canvas slayer free to roam while the canvas feels imprisoned, crushed, victimized?
Why is the canvas treated like a criminal?
When will the canvas feel free, joyful and peaceful?

THIS POEM IS DEDICATED TO VICTIM'S OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND OTHER FORMS OF ABUSE.
I went through domestic abuse in the past and that is why I had wrote the above poem.
Ann M Johnson Sep 2013
One day there was a bright glowing canvas, a pure sparkling white
It was beautiful, but not complete
Then someone came along and drew lines on it to form flowers and mountains and streams, it was more beautiful and it made the natural white look more distinct
Then one day someone else added color and the canvas radiated and became more and more complete, it seemed whole and functional
Suddenly, one day someone came along and slew the canvas, destroying its color till it showed black, and an ugly black
The canvas seems so drab so empty without its color, so lifeless
People refused to help the canvas, refused to anything about the canvas slayer refused to listen to the canvas’ plea
Instead the canvas slayer’s free to roam free to hurt and damage other canvas
Who will restore the canvas?
Who will bring justice?
Why is the canvas slayer free to roam while the canvas feels imprisoned, crushed, victimized?
Why is the canvas treated like a criminal?
When will the canvas feel free, joyful and peaceful?
THIS POEM IS DEDICATED TO VICTIM'S OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND OTHER FORMS OF ABUSE.
Viji Vishwanath Dec 2019
What a beautiful thing it is !
A Canvas that speaks a lot
Wow ! an artist’s soul
That try to speak a lot
From the window of canvas
To the doors of sky
Till the depth of ocean
In the romancing moonlight
And spreading its vastness
As the fragrance
Of night blooms
Until the sunrise
Again from morning dews
To chirping birds
Snowy mountains
To windy breeze
A moving cloud
And even from rain to rainbow
All is possible
With the tip of a brush
Is a marvellous thing
That depicts an artist’s heart

An art is a creation
Of an artist
Which is made
In different colours
With different paints
And in different shades
But all in one canvas
Makes an effective painting
Which can never die
As an artist’s soul
That is lightning forever
As a magical lantern

Some paintings speaks a lot
Like stories to us
When it starts speaking
The whole image depicts
It’s originality
As an original photo
Of some place
And that really can lost us
Somewhere as in the canvas

Even eyes of a portrait
Speaks a lot
When we stare in that eyes
It seems as the person is gazing
As a living person is standing in front of us
Which feels like a real photo
And it really makes
An unbelievable painting
Which is like giving life
To the non living thing
Within the canvas
By an artist
Or like a flower bloomed
In the hands of an artist

Canvas that speaks a lot
Really shows true heart
Of an artist’s creation
A beautiful creation
By ones own hands
Mesmerise all of us
With no time
Like an original picture
Taken with a camera
Of high resolution
Is something to adore
With the hearts of love

Canvas that speaks a lot
Is a graceful creation
That makes us wonder
Which is a miracle
In hands of an artist
That remains its effect
For life time
And that make
An artist
Different from others

Canvas that speaks a lot
Is a creation of art
When an artist starts
To move his hand on canvas
It starts to speak a lot
From the sincerity of love
To the beauty of a nature
Sparkling eyes of a human
And the depth of a sea
All that beautiful creation
Of Godly things
Is once more painted
With the help of an artist’s brush
Is something that speaks
For a lifetime
With thousands of words
In one image
Is an exemplary
Creation of humane
In a canvas

Canvas that speaks a lot
With voice of heart
Beats in every hearts
And in all eras

An artist is like a lantern
That lightens other lights
And a canvas is a mirror
Of an artist’s soul
That reflects the lights  
For lifetime
Which was once lit
By an artist
With a great deal
Who was owned
By an eloquent soul.
Dedicated to my loving father who was an artist is no more with us. I personally  lived and experienced the life of a canvas with hands of my father is something to adore more than in words. Memories and the paintings on canvas can never die as an artist’s soul.