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through art, it conceals
through art, it reveals

I speak symbolism,
only eyes and mouths that bear the fruition of my words can seek for truth

let the wind blows, let the storm howls
be it a fault or a foul,
only those eyes and mouths that bear the fruition of every truth I hold
could seek for clarity within them all

I was born for agony, not harmony
I was born to ride the waves, not streams

through art, it suppresses
through art, it unveils
- Apr 2016
This man I don't know
stopped me in a room full of paintings,
asked me if I knew that
Helonias was having an ******

as she clutched the head
of John the Baptist
and pierced the tongue
that spoke against her-

I had always thought
the woman was mourning.

Her face seemed contorted
in statuesque grief,
but, no -

She was *******
as she mutilated
the first cousin of Christ.

How, strange, how brutal
a thing to know.
Emilio Feb 2016
I was in my father's office (clinic)
and there were patients waiting to
be accommodated.
And my father had them waiting
because he
wasn't there for an hour
or I guess..

But the thing is
I just sat there
Waiting for my father
but no one recognized me as his
son
Even so, the idea of it amused me
And suddenly, some of the patients
started to talk
about the artworks...about
the paintings that're hanged on the
walls.
The woman was amazed about my father's work
not knowing
that it was his
The man told her that it is his work
And then, the woman added
that she really liked the paintings
that were posted in front, looking from the outside
and said that it was... really profound
or rather artsy

I didn't want to boast or tell them that those were
my works. I just smiled
a bit and
moved on
There's nothing to be proud of.
I'm an artist?
I wish someone would of told me that earlier
I would of told the actual ones i was so they could laugh at me
I'm just a soul trying to improve on the ordinary lines that normally come out
I'm not your Prince bragging about being a King
I'm just the by passer that gives a thumb up to the man making his very own ring for his woman
brandon nagley Nov 2015
i.

Affluent men seeketh out
Van Gogh hanging's;
Whilst studying
Da Vinci painting's.

ii.

Prosperous blokes
Solicit Monet's;
Whilst they dream of the beauty
Of Michelangelo's marvelous way's.

iii.

Old and young chap's
Exhibit sixteen-hundred's Rembrandt;
The well-to-do, art on the move,
For the newest material, for the Hall's of their muse.

iv.

As whilst they payeth
For mundane stroked charm's;
I'm smiling,laughing at them,
For mine heaven is already in mine arm's.

v.

She's not bought by paper
Nor traded with Jewel's;
She's a queen, not just a thing,
Not made for the rich, nor fool's.

vi.

Verily, mine Jane
Mine muse;
Verily, the art
Of celestial cruise.





©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedication-Filipino rose
You may not have meant to
and you probably didn't  
but your smile
and your voice
have left soft footprints on my heart.
Because of that, as soon as you left
I had to get up and dance,
alone here on the gallery floor,
amongst the paintings I am meant to be selling.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
Here is a beautiful mural
But I think I shouldn’t add any more to it
It might get overdone or ruined
I’m all about not ruining a good thing
Just like when people ask me to sing
I’m not like the rest
People look for batteries while I look for the North to my South
Maybe I’m too serious about some things
But I also doubt myself too much
Trying to cut that habit out of my system
Aparna Apr 2013
Oil paintings hung on ropes,
Like a suicidal woman.

Death wishes scratched upon,
The glossed walls.

A golden crown dressed in red,
The scent of ****** in a palace room.
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