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Lena Bitare Nov 2014
Nurture your gift
Don’t let it sleep
Grab a pen
Stare at a stem
Think of a story
No, don’t feel sorry
We are all little
But in our writings,
Everything can be better
Strong men can be brittle

Paint a face
Lift up a soul
Strike some lines
Bring them colorful rhymes
Put some color
Give them a nice odor
Splash positivity and be an author
Or be a painter and be the next Andy Warhol
No, don’t you give up
You can bring up someone
http://lenanoid.wordpress.com/2014/11/04/nurture-your-gift/
Jacquelyn Morgan Nov 2014
The butterfly of many talents
talked nothing but of himself...
and never stopped to Listen
or gain true conversational wealth
cloaked in flamboyent colors
his butterfly wings so huge,
captured a little lost lady moth
(looking for the moon)
and kept her as his muse

just as the wings of the butterfly
so was the moths heart large
and so she inspired her captor unconditionally..
and loved freely, fanning him...
& flapping her wings too hard...
each time they would tear ,
she'd ignore the searing pain
for with all of her inner beauty;
by no means was she vain

the butterfly misused his muse
did not reciprocate emotion
so her wings drooping stupidly
with blind devotion
were as lost shadowed in his coloring
as before.......
searching for the light of moon in black ocean

he had never saved her from the vast
sky-sea & empty Galaxy
But used her flutter as a tool
to satisfy his selfish artistic needs

the little lost moth lost flight
As she began to understand
the light butterfly provided
was a stage light made by man

all the time she lost
robbed her spirit and stole her grace
so she rubbed the powder off his big bright wings and thought
-what good is his outward beauty now that he can no longer soar in space-
Disenchanted but free at last
moth tries but can never trust color
won't inspire art or music
and will never love another.....
William Keckler Oct 2014
Must go. Cannot explain.
The sadness is on the table.
I left you as much as half
of everything I own.
Maybe more.
Spend it how you like.
I know you will anyway.
This is no joke.
The marriage painting is fixed.
The key is under
your lover's pillow.
Tell the cat
Vive La France for me.
Donna Bella Sep 2014
Art
Let my art be the sound of my soul
Let it reminisce of the good times
Let it scribble the lines of the bad times
Let it bloom with excitement
Let my art be a representation of me
Just let it be me
May D Aug 2014
feeble ribs
caressing porcelain  
hearts

ink dipped tongue
every word he
uttered was
poetry

she painted him
with hues of gray
leaving a piece
of her crumbling
soul in each
stroke

his sleepless nights
spent with
pencil smudged
fingers
trying to find
the words
to describe her

they were 2:00 am
lovers
with blemished
hearts trying
to find love
in each other

~ am
Javaria Waseem Aug 2014
I once fell in love with a painter.
He painted the darkness of his soul.
I asked him to paint me with his colors,
He painted a new memory with every brush stroke.

With passion and love he painted me day and night
And I sat in front of him; totally hypnotized.

He painted me into a beautiful tragedy
And said that I was his best piece of art ever.
I am just one of his paintings since then,
For I once fell in love with a painter.
Amitav Radiance Aug 2014
A portrait so skillfully painted
Variegated emotions came alive
Through the prism of painter's mind
Brush strokes painted life’s eulogy
raingirlpoet Jun 2014
She was
A word artist, delicately stringing letters together on a long beaded necklace of a poem
She was
An escape artist, writing to numb herself of the pain that incessantly stabbed her in places that should not feel,
Her heart, her mind, her body was corrupted...
She was
an Artist
Who felt more than the World should have allowed her to Feel
She carried the weight of the World on her shoulders, every day becoming weaker instead of Stronger
She was
an Artist
Who couldn't put the pen down
Heliza Rose Apr 2014
Art
I have the gift of art,but I can't put it to good use.

Creativity blurs my mind but when I touch a piece of paper with a pencil,a pen,a brush it still remains empty.

I'm too scared to even attempt to let the art flow,because I know my paintings,sketches,scribbled messed up drawings would only land me in handcuffs

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