#palette
A bare canvas cannot grace the gallery,
and solely a vacant amphitheatre applauds the painters
who refrain from staining their fingers,
the ones who shudder at just the flawed tint,
rage at one stray stroke,
and wince when colours slightly choke.
But when the palette drains the last drop of paint,
a canvas clad in imperfect hues
remains superior to the isolated one drawing in blues.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 12:26 PM UTC
Color the sky with cerulean blue.
Know in your heart it will be true.
Paint the clouds titanium white.
Use indigo to pigment the night.
Oh, painter, your palette is as sharp as your knife.
May it guide you towards vibrancy all of your life.
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 7:31 PM UTC
A palette blessed
with every possible shade
and hue there is…
But somehow,
the colours are all wrong
the moment
they meet the canvas.
Aug 30, 2021
Aug 30, 2021 at 10:14 AM UTC
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.
Sep 5, 2020
Sep 5, 2020 at 7:01 AM UTC
spring's color palette
paints a resplendent canvas
of floral glories
Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 7:01 AM UTC
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
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 8:37 AM UTC
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
Apr 29, 2019
Apr 29, 2019 at 12:18 AM UTC
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.
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 11:14 AM UTC
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.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 11:51 AM UTC
The love you paint in my heart,
looks more like vandalism than art.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 5:15 AM UTC
You
should know
that not all
that glitters is
gold
♡
p
e
r
f
e
c
t
i
o
n
♡
i
s
♡
a
n
♡
i
l
l
u
s
i
o
n
♡
I
know it
can be hard
but be true to
you
♡
y
o
u
♡
a
r
e
♡
b
e
a
u
t
i
f
u
l
♡
Your
life is
comprised of
many lovely
hues
♡
t
h
a
t
♡
g
l
i
t
t
e
r
s
♡
a
n
d
♡
d
i
m
s
♡
We
all have
to handle
life's beauty and
pain
♡
a
♡
b
l
e
s
s
i
n
g
♡
a
n
d
♡
a
♡
b
u
r
d
e
n
♡
Don't
fall in
line with
S O C I E T Y ' S
scope
♡
e
m
b
r
a
c
e
♡
a
n
d
♡
h
o
l
d
♡
o
n
t
o
♡
y
o
u
r
♡
s
u
i
♡
g
e
n
e
r
i
s
♡
p
a
l
e
t
t
e
♡
So
pick up
the paintbrush
and paint a better
day
♡
l
o
v
e
♡
y
o
u
r
♡
v
i
b
r
a
n
c
y
♡
There
is a
B E A U T Y
in all shades of
life
♡
d
a
r
k
♡
a
n
d
♡
l
i
g
h
t
♡
p
h
y
s
i
c
a
l
l
y
♡
e
m
o
t
i
o
n
a
l
l
y
♡
a
n
d
♡
m
e
n
t
a
l
l
y
♡
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 9:36 AM UTC
My summer palette
If it were perfect
Would consist of...
47 gum drop
45 tangerine twist
53 sour blast
36 thin mint
24 tranquility
97 frosted
21 cotton candy
22 not-aye girl
38 alien
18 powerline
11 black cherry
66 kool-aid
49 calabria
71 mochi
02 mocha
01 solar beam
52 stellar
41 rusty
13 always October
17 honeycrisp
55 sun-kist
99 starburst
And I would wear this palette
Proudly
For it is me
A little always October in me
And in love with a sunset
Hopeless romantic
Who hasn't reached love yet
So I reach for stars
And solar eclipse
And run miles up and down
Thin lanes of traffic
Chasing dreams
All while wearing my palette
Proud
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
I walk the river down one side and travel back the other.
I watch the people walk their dogs and children with their mother.
I see the beauty along the course, birds nesting in the trees,
swans swimming with their young,
the fast running water of the weir,
the blueness of the sky,
the yellowness of the sun.
I see the colours of the earth, surrounding us in nearby fields,
where farmers have ploughed the soil the colour is earthly brown.
The field next to it is a blaze of green,
what the brown field will yield is yet to be seen.
Flowers starting to open their colourful heads, Daffodils, Primroses, Tulips , Bluebells Snowdrops, Crocuses and Hyacinths, in various shades, of Yellow, Red, Blue and White, it really is a beautiful sight.
The warmth of Spring starting to generate various shades of Red, Blue, White, Yellow and Green
The Palatte of Spring is a riot of colour and truly wonderful to see
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 12:29 PM UTC
❝ We were of differing shades in the palette of colours.
You were blue
you were as calming and tranquil as water.
I was red
I was as dangerous and wrathful as fire.
You were white
innocence, pure and good.
I was black
mysterious, and full of depth.
But funny enough,
together,
we match like the pieces of jigsaw puzzles. ❞
《 e.i 》
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 6:56 AM UTC
I'm the pen and you're the paper
We combine together
To express one's inner thoughts
To create words and phrases
Still unwritten.
We're inseparable.
- him
I'm the brush and you're the palette
We paint together
To create beautiful artworks,
To add colors
In this grayscale world.
No wonder why we both love arts.
- her
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 12:12 AM UTC
promises of love
and dediction
we believe we are grown
but inside of us
just under the surface
is a child wanting to be comforted
to be loved
so we hide this part of us
the colours in our mind slowly dying
because they say to keep something maintained you
must nourish it
but the nourishment we need
is rare
and this makes our palettes grey
resorting to unorthodox versions of what we need
crutches and supports
that people refuse to speak about
the childhood friend
that moved away
when you were young
unable to cohere as to why
they couldn't stay
wrapped in the dreamland
of explosive joy
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 8:49 PM UTC
*clouds and colors painted across the sky
reflecting in lovers' eyes
violet, rose, bluest of blues
peach with vanilla hues
this palette made for two*
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
I watched the sky transform
Overhead,
As the sun set
It flourished more than ever.
I watched in awe
As it changed colour,
The clouds shed its white washed skin
And boasted an undulating opalescence
Of pink and lilac,
Soft like candyfloss,
I felt compelled to reach up
And sink my teeth into it,
Only to let the rain fall
Onto my lips and seep
Into my skin.
I traced the clouds
To the horizon,
Where fiery hues of
Orange burned bright
Like wildfire,
An irresistible iridescence
That filled my belly with
An inferno
Not even the Seven Seas
Could tame.
Before long,
The stars filtered through
The kaleidoscopic creation,
Illuminating the Universe
Like the London Skyline.
I pick one amongst the
Palette of scattered clouds
And wish that I can witness
This masterpiece
The same time tomorrow
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 4:53 PM UTC
i'll summarize the painting
of my life with him in it.
it's a priceless work of art,
only love is the profit.
i raged crimson,
for the time you had to leave.
out of my stubborn anger,
the truth, i couldn't perceive.
i splashed shades of blue,
for the time i spent alone.
to feel so sad from everything,
melancholy was monochrome.
i planted green,
for the growing bitterness
of hating and loving you,
simultaneously like this.
i shined yellow
for the murderous thought
of the both of us,
turning brown, it rot.
i built up gray
for the concrete walls
of my cold, bare heart
every time you called.
then to black it faded,
everything was gone.
but white invaded
because light has come.
the pinks and purples,
suddenly arrived.
you finally came
yet somehow i have survived.
but for you to leave,
or if it's me to go,
let's stop each other.
for an unfinished painting
we wouldn't want to know.
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 12:45 PM UTC
Poetry Is...
...a journey
...to magical places
never seen....never been to...
...places...we don't wish
to be...
places...we'd rather be...
...a palette...
paints the world
black...white...
yellow....green...blue...
...white doves fly somewhere
some places...
red covers the atmosphere
...a bucket
of faces...names...moments
we remember
or forget
....a potpourri...
of sweet nothings
curses
promises, broken
unheard conversations
...of bleeding hearts,
feelings reciprocated,
smiles, escaping from
contented lips
...of lovers, riding
tandem bikes
flying kites
planning
dreaming...
unending
...of grips
loosening
leaving...
still, we breathe
still, we exist...
Poetry is anything...tangible...invisible
Poetry is US....the WORLD....
(10W X 10)
Sally
Copyright October 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
I'll have roses,
daffodils, ivy
and snowdrops
in a bouquet
on my palette.
Slipping a taste
of one another,
a puddle is made.
It is murky like
hungover clouds
though now
with new regret
I understand
the mixing of
beautiful ideas
brings me pity
for my creation
formed through
pursuit of a dream
to a wretched being.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC