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"genres" poems
. A poet's heart isn't like any other... It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.      It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to      be found.           It's a book shelved high that wants to           be read.                It's the freest of all birds caged but                unbound... A poet's heart isn't like any other... It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.      It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of      colours.           It doesn't wield a paintbrush to           translate its thoughts.                But it can see through the eyes of                painters... A poet's heart isn't like any other... It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.      It doesn't bind itself to the requirements      of musical harmony.           It doesn't follow the conventions of           genres.                But it sings its voice loud without                restrictions of melody... A poet's heart isn't like any other... It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.      It's an exploding universe, that merges      back into galaxies.           It's a sought after painting, that boasts           of unfathomable beauty.                It's an everlasting song, that echoes                within the poet that embodies...
0
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 10:54 AM UTC
A Poet's Heart
. A poet's heart isn't like any other... It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.      It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to      be found.           It's a book shelved high that wants to           be read.                It's the freest of all birds caged but                unbound... A poet's heart isn't like any other... It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.      It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of      colours.           It doesn't wield a paintbrush to           translate its thoughts.                But it can see through the eyes of                painters... A poet's heart isn't like any other... It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.      It doesn't bind itself to the requirements      of musical harmony.           It doesn't follow the conventions of           genres.                But it sings its voice loud without                restrictions of melody... A poet's heart isn't like any other... It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.      It's an exploding universe, that merges      back into galaxies.           It's a sought after painting, that boasts           of unfathomable beauty.                It's an everlasting song, that echoes                within the poet that embodies...
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33
Many times I get asked what anime is. I wear anime t-shirts, I watch it with glee, I fantasize about it and have conversations about it as well. I go to conventions, I discuss it with my friends nitpicking at strong foes, and I even supported toonami coming back. Yet this question of what anime is always makes me pause. What is anime? I always think about it and I am always unsure of it. It's almost like theaters and movies, anime has many genres such as drama, romance, and even tragedy. Yet sometimes people argue that anime is nothing more than a cartoon. I could say that cartoons are only meant for kids but anime includes that as well. I could say anime has different art styles, but the same could be said for cartoons as well. I could say anime is more Japanese oriented but anime has no limitations. People question it however the same could be said of theater. Why do people love tragedy? Why do people wish to see a girl die from cancer? Why do people wish to see a couple being put through a lot? Why do people enjoy death? Anime has many genres like theater, anime has death, tragedy, and yes even **** Do not judge anime by it's differences, do not say it's simply a cartoon. Because to some people it is their theater, their muse, their life, and their dreams and inspirations.
0
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
Anime
It's a dance It really is Skip and prance Lifelong practice Loop of songs Never ending Of various genres Life is playing There's the spotlight World is awaiting Pressure of eyes Silently watching Take your place Assume your position Execute with finesse And flawless precision Spin your pirouettes Don't get dizzy Maintain your poise In this revelry Along comes a partner Present as a duo The game now altered From when you were solo Two bodies now Move in unison Reciprocate and reply Through steps made in heaven Flighty feet Intertwined bodies limbre Sweet little performance Elapsing into forever With grace of ballet Each other you'd catch Intimate display Think you've found your match There'll come such time Both will not be in sync Episodes of missteps Push you to the brink Alone again Or switch of partners Find solace in groups Still dancing for answers Dancing with others Much you can learn From hip hop to the waltz Together or in turn Try to adapt To different styles Soak up all you can May take a while I've danced all my life Can't say that I've mastered Fair share of jeers And accolades I've garnered Always clumsy Exceedingly awkward Tripping and falling Barely proceeding forward It's just this dance One with syncopated beats It's just this prance That my gait can't meet It's just this stance I often use as retreat I realised in a glance That I have...but two left feet
0
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 5:36 AM UTC
Two Left Feet
hello my name is dyed red hair hello my name is infj hello my name is having a love hate relationship with different music genres hello my name is crying during sad or happy movies hello my name is an avid just dance player hello my name is wearing black all the time hello my name is liking the color blue best hello my name is b math hello my name is canadian hello my name is sometimes not so happy with my weight hello my name is a writer hello my name is being afraid of being left alone hello my name is captain of the volleyball team hello my name is a christian hello my name is q hello my name is fashion lover hello my name is making bad decisions hello my name is loving to travel a lot
0
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
hello
365Nectar #46 The High Priestess of Soul Fri. November 8, 2013 10:38 P.M. Deep in the distance dancing upon the horizon a deeply distinctive voice defies definition bending genres to her will clearly breaking boundaries an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Little Girl Blue lettin' it all out with a wild as the wind Sinner man just tryin' to feel good absolutely refusing to be misunderstood a strong-willed priestess turns tempermental tunes into blazing beautiful harmony putting a revolutionary spell on you belting emotional songs of freedom and spirit Peace of Heart Nectar of Truth just in time to do what you do... an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues. Born to a preacher handyman and housemaid minister a gospel pop fusion diva emerges from the Glory of Love a strange volatile fruit blossoms into young, gifted, and Black spitting storms of spiritually smoldering Black Gold from a silky soul that scorches the earth an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Masterfully mesmerizing Black rock Blood and Candlesmoke a fiery flow of tangy, tantalizing and titillating under a fog of duality genius bears two heads vibrant and intricate a saucy songstress swings with passion and honesty an empowered diva breaks down and let's it all out just energetic expressive jazz injected with well composed folklore live at Ronnie Scotts an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues From Newport to Baltimore an exiled priestess feeds forbidden fruit and hypnotizes the masses with tantalizing love me or leave me alone torch songs a powerful Four Women high on Lilac Wine blush from Broadway Blues Ballads in Baltimore See-line woman goes to hell to save Little Liza Jane and shelters in Barbados Cotton-eyed Joe feeds Brown Baby controversy behind Blue Prelude Did it move you? Yeah... Hell yeah.. it moved me too! Mr. Bojangles wave bye bye to a Blackbird in chilly winds that don't blow while willows weep something seemingly symbolic of soothing to an African mailman in Central Park and an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues The High Priestess of Soul caged but still singing shivering sensations from stubborn sweetness under sweet strings that sharply spill and scatter strength to the sorrowful that daily dine and devour silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues.
0
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
The High Priestess of Soul
365Nectar #46 The High Priestess of Soul Fri. November 8, 2013 10:38 P.M. Deep in the distance dancing upon the horizon a deeply distinctive voice defies definition bending genres to her will clearly breaking boundaries an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Little Girl Blue lettin' it all out with a wild as the wind Sinner man just tryin' to feel good absolutely refusing to be misunderstood a strong-willed priestess turns tempermental tunes into blazing beautiful harmony putting a revolutionary spell on you belting emotional songs of freedom and spirit Peace of Heart Nectar of Truth just in time to do what you do... an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues. Born to a preacher handyman and housemaid minister a gospel pop fusion diva emerges from the Glory of Love a strange volatile fruit blossoms into young, gifted, and Black spitting storms of spiritually smoldering Black Gold from a silky soul that scorches the earth an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Masterfully mesmerizing Black rock Blood and Candlesmoke a fiery flow of tangy, tantalizing and titillating under a fog of duality genius bears two heads vibrant and intricate a saucy songstress swings with passion and honesty an empowered diva breaks down and let's it all out just energetic expressive jazz injected with well composed folklore live at Ronnie Scotts an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues From Newport to Baltimore an exiled priestess feeds forbidden fruit and hypnotizes the masses with tantalizing love me or leave me alone torch songs a powerful Four Women high on Lilac Wine blush from Broadway Blues Ballads in Baltimore See-line woman goes to hell to save Little Liza Jane and shelters in Barbados Cotton-eyed Joe feeds Brown Baby controversy behind Blue Prelude Did it move you? Yeah... Hell yeah.. it moved me too! Mr. Bojangles wave bye bye to a Blackbird in chilly winds that don't blow while willows weep something seemingly symbolic of soothing to an African mailman in Central Park and an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues The High Priestess of Soul caged but still singing shivering sensations from stubborn sweetness under sweet strings that sharply spill and scatter strength to the sorrowful that daily dine and devour silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues.
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We are polar opposites You are West, I am East Our views always contradict You have a sweet tooth, I don't like sweets You are white, I am black Not literally, but just in life view Sometimes you're ***** white and I'm clear black It varies from half empty to half full You are an extravert While I am an introvert You like being surrounded by people I'm fine being secluded in the darkest corner You're frank and always true I lie so no one will have a clue But you always know what I hide While I am oblivious if you're really fine You are a cat-lover, I am a dog-lover It rain cats and dogs when we're together You sing the sweetest meow at my whimper I happily wag my tail at your purr We both like music though But we listen to different genres We never even shared on one earphone So sometimes we just endure the silence You are a sadist, I am a ********* You leave bite marks on my skin Whenever you're overwhelmed But I'm really fine with it You like Vampire Diaries and Victoria's Secret While I like TVXQ and anime We'll never agree on a TV show Now who's gonna hold the remote control? You are a clean freak I am not that very clean You're probably next to Godliness While I'm second to the last in that list You are very hardworking, I am lazy While you are being busy I'm being a potato on the couch "Sweep the floor.", you said as the broom flew on my face, "Ouch!" I like food trips But you are on a diet You like to eat healthy I like to eat anything but veggies True, we don't have anything in common Except for the dislike of the black part of the fish's meat But we are familiar of our demons And the how-tos for its defeat Yes, we must be polar opposites And yes, we're like magnets Positive plus negative To each other, we are attracted I am salt, you are pepper And we complement each other We are each others' puzzle pieces Completing each others' emptiness We are yin and yang We cannot live without either one And most importantly, you and I We rhyme
0
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
Polar Opposites
We are polar opposites You are West, I am East Our views always contradict You have a sweet tooth, I don't like sweets You are white, I am black Not literally, but just in life view Sometimes you're ***** white and I'm clear black It varies from half empty to half full You are an extravert While I am an introvert You like being surrounded by people I'm fine being secluded in the darkest corner You're frank and always true I lie so no one will have a clue But you always know what I hide While I am oblivious if you're really fine You are a cat-lover, I am a dog-lover It rain cats and dogs when we're together You sing the sweetest meow at my whimper I happily wag my tail at your purr We both like music though But we listen to different genres We never even shared on one earphone So sometimes we just endure the silence You are a sadist, I am a ********* You leave bite marks on my skin Whenever you're overwhelmed But I'm really fine with it You like Vampire Diaries and Victoria's Secret While I like TVXQ and anime We'll never agree on a TV show Now who's gonna hold the remote control? You are a clean freak I am not that very clean You're probably next to Godliness While I'm second to the last in that list You are very hardworking, I am lazy While you are being busy I'm being a potato on the couch "Sweep the floor.", you said as the broom flew on my face, "Ouch!" I like food trips But you are on a diet You like to eat healthy I like to eat anything but veggies True, we don't have anything in common Except for the dislike of the black part of the fish's meat But we are familiar of our demons And the how-tos for its defeat Yes, we must be polar opposites And yes, we're like magnets Positive plus negative To each other, we are attracted I am salt, you are pepper And we complement each other We are each others' puzzle pieces Completing each others' emptiness We are yin and yang We cannot live without either one And most importantly, you and I We rhyme
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60
you've always been my favorite book never difficult to pick from the shelf and breeze through. I have read you over and over one thousand times and I find things with each and every read that I never discovered in the last. all of the genres combined within you; mystery, romance, comedy; an endless movie running through my head with you as the lead role and I couldn't imagine a life without you being written into it. Copyright ©  2015 Alyssa Packard All Rights Reserved
0
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
to my future soulmate
Stealing away from the noise and glare I paced the aisles of an ancient library Being worn and tired, indisposed to read I sat in a corner, lost in half reverie Around me were books stacked end on end In safely locked glass and wooden shelves And sectioned into different genres Fiction, non- fiction, verse et al, in thinly layered leaves I felt lost in this vast continent of erudite friends Poet, scholar, philosopher and sage, each sat quiet But those silent souls seemed to crave for human touch Waiting to serve anytime learning’s lovesome diet Closely sheltered from the tumult of the world The place, though serene had an eerie air And books like so many beauties in a harem Were kept away in seclusion just to admire The lifeless air and the long deserted look Mildly disturbed my inner calm Couldn’t digest man’s total disregard of books Which for long, to many a lonely soul, served as balm Sitting amid those gallant souls I thought over the relentless efforts of sage like men Who in the stillness of the night, in their cloistured cells Plunged into research and meditative reflection What knowledge is garnered in these tomes! What all charms, encased in these pages! To what magic lands they can carry us Sharing with us the accumulated wisdom of ages With the profusion of electronic gadgets And information, readily available by a finger hit Books no more are given a venerable treat And fated to be stashed away in corners unlit Heavy with the time tested wisdom of the wise They sit huddled together in damp corners Longing to get a little human warmth But sadly neglected like rusted burners After an hour’s enervating reprieve While I was leaving that dumb world In my ears, fell a faint sound Of the agonizing cry of the Printed Word!
0
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 8:58 AM UTC
An Agonizing Cry
Stealing away from the noise and glare I paced the aisles of an ancient library Being worn and tired, indisposed to read I sat in a corner, lost in half reverie Around me were books stacked end on end In safely locked glass and wooden shelves And sectioned into different genres Fiction, non- fiction, verse et al, in thinly layered leaves I felt lost in this vast continent of erudite friends Poet, scholar, philosopher and sage, each sat quiet But those silent souls seemed to crave for human touch Waiting to serve anytime learning’s lovesome diet Closely sheltered from the tumult of the world The place, though serene had an eerie air And books like so many beauties in a harem Were kept away in seclusion just to admire The lifeless air and the long deserted look Mildly disturbed my inner calm Couldn’t digest man’s total disregard of books Which for long, to many a lonely soul, served as balm Sitting amid those gallant souls I thought over the relentless efforts of sage like men Who in the stillness of the night, in their cloistured cells Plunged into research and meditative reflection What knowledge is garnered in these tomes! What all charms, encased in these pages! To what magic lands they can carry us Sharing with us the accumulated wisdom of ages With the profusion of electronic gadgets And information, readily available by a finger hit Books no more are given a venerable treat And fated to be stashed away in corners unlit Heavy with the time tested wisdom of the wise They sit huddled together in damp corners Longing to get a little human warmth But sadly neglected like rusted burners After an hour’s enervating reprieve While I was leaving that dumb world In my ears, fell a faint sound Of the agonizing cry of the Printed Word!
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40
When I look into my bedroom I see a shelf of various book genres that I read over and over again, when I look into my bedroom and look beyond the rest I see a window which I have seen many, many different things through, when I look into my bedroom and door ahead I see a dresser with many clothing items I will cherish for life. Above I see some of my most valuable collections, when I look into my bedroom and look down I see a box of various types of ***** which I have kicked and thrown all over the house When I look inside my closet and look down I see board games that I have played over and over again. When I look inside my closet and look straight ahead I see sweatshirts that have kept me warm in the winter months. When I look inside my closet and look up I see enormous puzzles that I have spent days and days and days to complete, when I look into my bedroom and look right I see my bed where I have had good dreams and bad dreams and dreams in between. When I look into my bedroom and look right I see soccer cards which I have spent hours organizing and putting in their holders. When I look into my bedroom and look beyond my bed I see a shelf with fidget spinners, nerf guns, athlete cards, travel games, and remote control cars everywhere, when I look into my bedroom and look beyond my dresser I see a big box of athletes cards which I have studied over and over again, when I look in my bedroom and look at the walls I see posters of athletes who inspire mes like no other, when I look into my bedroom and look above my closet I see my mini basketball hoop which I have attempted many shots on. when I look into my bedroom I see my very own personality.
0
Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 7:52 PM UTC
When I look into my bedroom
When I look into my bedroom I see a shelf of various book genres that I read over and over again, when I look into my bedroom and look beyond the rest I see a window which I have seen many, many different things through, when I look into my bedroom and door ahead I see a dresser with many clothing items I will cherish for life. Above I see some of my most valuable collections, when I look into my bedroom and look down I see a box of various types of ***** which I have kicked and thrown all over the house When I look inside my closet and look down I see board games that I have played over and over again. When I look inside my closet and look straight ahead I see sweatshirts that have kept me warm in the winter months. When I look inside my closet and look up I see enormous puzzles that I have spent days and days and days to complete, when I look into my bedroom and look right I see my bed where I have had good dreams and bad dreams and dreams in between. When I look into my bedroom and look right I see soccer cards which I have spent hours organizing and putting in their holders. When I look into my bedroom and look beyond my bed I see a shelf with fidget spinners, nerf guns, athlete cards, travel games, and remote control cars everywhere, when I look into my bedroom and look beyond my dresser I see a big box of athletes cards which I have studied over and over again, when I look in my bedroom and look at the walls I see posters of athletes who inspire mes like no other, when I look into my bedroom and look above my closet I see my mini basketball hoop which I have attempted many shots on. when I look into my bedroom I see my very own personality.
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45
How do you define love? How do you begin? Come with me on this journey and explore, The emotion of love that we all truly adore, The emotion that we all seek to receive, The emotion that makes us weak at the knees. An emotion that has been written about in Music, Stories, Poetry An emotion we have captured in paint, An emotion we long for to hold and cherish, let noone taint. Songwriters have written lyrics, declaring their feelings of desire, Different Genres, Ballads, Rock Anthems,Jazz, Rhythm andBlues, Singing of love for cars, women and drink. Singing of the Power of Love and who started the fire, Singing of pain, hurt, unrequited love, betrayal too Songs making us remember, desire and think. Music so light and pretty, Music that rises slowly to a high crescendo, Music of passion, devotion, trust and loyalty. Music that is dark and ***** Music that takes you down low, Music of betryal, mistrust and insanity. Artists take to the brush to paint a picture clear, Of women walking on a bridge parasol in hand, Portraying feelings of lust, romanticism and fear, Of lovers dancing on the beach leaving footprints in the sand. Portraying their love of the beauty that surrounds, women and children with beguiling smiles, Portraits that make you laugh, cry and stand still for a while. Artists that capture the perfect smile, Artists that capture that capture the love in the eyes, Artists that capture that moment, once in a while, Artists that capture that bond, those ties. Poets create a picture with their words, Bringing to mind lust and desire, Writing of feelings that matter. Making you cry, laugh, raising your emotions higher and higher, Using words that describe, pain, and hurt,words that charm and flatter. Poets that tell a story of hardship, friendship and survival, Poets that make you laugh, cry and bring about revival. Poets that write of emotions, Poets that write of tenderness, Poets that write of devotion, Poets that write of togetherness. Throughout the centuries we are bequiled by love, How it hurts, how it heals, The emotions love makes you feel. How it is won, how it is lost. Love at what price, what cost? How we desire love from each other, How we desire the love of our father and mother. How love can raise you up and let you down, How love can get a smile out of a frown. How love can be your freedom and yet love can smother, There is no medium that can capture all the different aspect of love for each other. Love is unique, Love can be bleak. Love is scary, Love can be weary. Love is strength, Love can be any time, any length. Love is freedom, Love can be your guiding beacon. Each and everyone of us, feels love in someway How do you recognise love? if love spoke to you, what would it say?
0
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 8:04 AM UTC
What is Love?
How do you define love? How do you begin? Come with me on this journey and explore, The emotion of love that we all truly adore, The emotion that we all seek to receive, The emotion that makes us weak at the knees. An emotion that has been written about in Music, Stories, Poetry An emotion we have captured in paint, An emotion we long for to hold and cherish, let noone taint. Songwriters have written lyrics, declaring their feelings of desire, Different Genres, Ballads, Rock Anthems,Jazz, Rhythm andBlues, Singing of love for cars, women and drink. Singing of the Power of Love and who started the fire, Singing of pain, hurt, unrequited love, betrayal too Songs making us remember, desire and think. Music so light and pretty, Music that rises slowly to a high crescendo, Music of passion, devotion, trust and loyalty. Music that is dark and ***** Music that takes you down low, Music of betryal, mistrust and insanity. Artists take to the brush to paint a picture clear, Of women walking on a bridge parasol in hand, Portraying feelings of lust, romanticism and fear, Of lovers dancing on the beach leaving footprints in the sand. Portraying their love of the beauty that surrounds, women and children with beguiling smiles, Portraits that make you laugh, cry and stand still for a while. Artists that capture the perfect smile, Artists that capture that capture the love in the eyes, Artists that capture that moment, once in a while, Artists that capture that bond, those ties. Poets create a picture with their words, Bringing to mind lust and desire, Writing of feelings that matter. Making you cry, laugh, raising your emotions higher and higher, Using words that describe, pain, and hurt,words that charm and flatter. Poets that tell a story of hardship, friendship and survival, Poets that make you laugh, cry and bring about revival. Poets that write of emotions, Poets that write of tenderness, Poets that write of devotion, Poets that write of togetherness. Throughout the centuries we are bequiled by love, How it hurts, how it heals, The emotions love makes you feel. How it is won, how it is lost. Love at what price, what cost? How we desire love from each other, How we desire the love of our father and mother. How love can raise you up and let you down, How love can get a smile out of a frown. How love can be your freedom and yet love can smother, There is no medium that can capture all the different aspect of love for each other. Love is unique, Love can be bleak. Love is scary, Love can be weary. Love is strength, Love can be any time, any length. Love is freedom, Love can be your guiding beacon. Each and everyone of us, feels love in someway How do you recognise love? if love spoke to you, what would it say?
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63
An art movement is a tendency or style in art with a specific common philosophy or goal, followed by a group of artists during a restricted period of time, usually a few months, years or decades or, at least, with the heyday of the movement defined within a number of years. Art movements were especially important in modern art, when each consecutive movement was considered as a new avant-garde; According to theories associated with modernism and the concept of postmodernism, art movements are especially important during the period of time corresponding to modern art. The period of time called "modern art" is posited to have changed approximately halfway through the 20th century and art made afterward is generally called contemporary art. Postmodernism in visual art begins and functions as a parallel to late modernism and refers to that period after the "modern" period called contemporary art. The postmodern period began  during late modernism, which is a contemporary continuation of modernism;             and according to some theorists postmodernism ended in the 21st century.       During the period of time corresponding to "modern art" each consecutive movement was often considered a new avant-garde. Also during the period of time referred to as        "modern art" each movement was seen corresponding   to a somewhat grandiose rethinking of all that came before it, concerning the visual arts. Generally there was a commonality of visual style linking the works and artists included in an art movement.                      Verbal expression and explanation of movements has come from the artists themselves, sometimes in the form of an art manifesto, and sometimes from art critics and others who may explain their understanding of the meaning of the new art then being produced; In the visual arts,                           many artists, theorists, art critics, art collectors,                                     art dealers and others mindful of the unbroken continuation of modernism and the continuation of modern art even into the contemporary era, ascribe to and welcome new philosophies of art as they appear. Postmodernist theorists posit that the idea of art movements are no longer as applicable,                    or no longer as discernible, as the notion of art movements had been before the postmodern era. There are many theorists however who doubt as to whether or not such an era was actually a fact; or just a passing fad. The term refers to tendencies in visual art, novel ideas and architecture, and sometimes literature. In music it is more common to speak about genres and styles instead. See also cultural movement, a term with a broader connotation. As the names of many art movements use the -ism suffix, for example cubism and futurism, they are sometimes referred to as isms
0
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
After Modernism, The End of the Road.
An art movement is a tendency or style in art with a specific common philosophy or goal, followed by a group of artists during a restricted period of time, usually a few months, years or decades or, at least, with the heyday of the movement defined within a number of years. Art movements were especially important in modern art, when each consecutive movement was considered as a new avant-garde; According to theories associated with modernism and the concept of postmodernism, art movements are especially important during the period of time corresponding to modern art. The period of time called "modern art" is posited to have changed approximately halfway through the 20th century and art made afterward is generally called contemporary art. Postmodernism in visual art begins and functions as a parallel to late modernism and refers to that period after the "modern" period called contemporary art. The postmodern period began  during late modernism, which is a contemporary continuation of modernism;             and according to some theorists postmodernism ended in the 21st century.       During the period of time corresponding to "modern art" each consecutive movement was often considered a new avant-garde. Also during the period of time referred to as        "modern art" each movement was seen corresponding   to a somewhat grandiose rethinking of all that came before it, concerning the visual arts. Generally there was a commonality of visual style linking the works and artists included in an art movement.                      Verbal expression and explanation of movements has come from the artists themselves, sometimes in the form of an art manifesto, and sometimes from art critics and others who may explain their understanding of the meaning of the new art then being produced; In the visual arts,                           many artists, theorists, art critics, art collectors,                                     art dealers and others mindful of the unbroken continuation of modernism and the continuation of modern art even into the contemporary era, ascribe to and welcome new philosophies of art as they appear. Postmodernist theorists posit that the idea of art movements are no longer as applicable,                    or no longer as discernible, as the notion of art movements had been before the postmodern era. There are many theorists however who doubt as to whether or not such an era was actually a fact; or just a passing fad. The term refers to tendencies in visual art, novel ideas and architecture, and sometimes literature. In music it is more common to speak about genres and styles instead. See also cultural movement, a term with a broader connotation. As the names of many art movements use the -ism suffix, for example cubism and futurism, they are sometimes referred to as isms
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~ October 2025 HP Poet: Pagan Paul Country: UK Question 1: We warmly welcome you to the HP Spotlight, Paul. Please tell us about your background? Pagan Paul: "I am from Bristol, England. I have always been a Free Spirit and never really settled into the society into which I was born. I am neuro-diverse. I am generally quite a shy and private person. I also write a little comedy and love listening to old comedy radio shows. I like cheese (especially vintage Chedder)." Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry? Pagan Paul: "I have been a member of HP since August 2016. I started writing poetry in around 2012, but not regularly. I think it was around 2015 I became more prolific and took it more seriously." Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you). Pagan Paul: "My inspiration comes from many sources. Nature, mental health, relationships, experiences, articles, books and my interests. But also from the mess that is my mind." Question 4: What does poetry mean to you? Pagan Paul: "What does poetry mean to me? Escape and expression for my creativity. Its a chance to write down things in a way that makes more sense to my neuro-diverse mind as well as to explore and experiment with ideas, concepts and imagination." Question 5: Who are your favorite poets? Pagan Paul: "I do not really read much in the way of classical poetry (Byron, Keats etc) but do tend to read some from ancient Greece and Rome like Callus, Praxilla, Virgil etc. I also tend towards the more abstract or psychedelic poetry of James Douglas Morrison. As mentioned I am a fan of comedy poetry by people like Spike Milligan, Henry Normal and Pam Ayers always raise a laugh." Question 6: What other interests do you have? Pagan Paul: "My main interest is music and the consumption thereof. I listen to a lot of different music from different genres. I have always regretted never learning an instrument or music theory. I also read a lot, especially with regard to the ancient world. The old myths and legends and folklore are also a source of inspiration for my poetry." Carlo C. Gomez: “We would like to thank you Paul, we really appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! It is our pleasure to include you in this Spotlight series!” Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Paul better. We most certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez We will post Spotlight #33 in November! ~
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Oct 1, 2025
Oct 1, 2025 at 3:41 PM UTC
HP Writers Spotlight: Pagan Paul
~ October 2025 HP Poet: Pagan Paul Country: UK Question 1: We warmly welcome you to the HP Spotlight, Paul. Please tell us about your background? Pagan Paul: "I am from Bristol, England. I have always been a Free Spirit and never really settled into the society into which I was born. I am neuro-diverse. I am generally quite a shy and private person. I also write a little comedy and love listening to old comedy radio shows. I like cheese (especially vintage Chedder)." Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry? Pagan Paul: "I have been a member of HP since August 2016. I started writing poetry in around 2012, but not regularly. I think it was around 2015 I became more prolific and took it more seriously." Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you). Pagan Paul: "My inspiration comes from many sources. Nature, mental health, relationships, experiences, articles, books and my interests. But also from the mess that is my mind." Question 4: What does poetry mean to you? Pagan Paul: "What does poetry mean to me? Escape and expression for my creativity. Its a chance to write down things in a way that makes more sense to my neuro-diverse mind as well as to explore and experiment with ideas, concepts and imagination." Question 5: Who are your favorite poets? Pagan Paul: "I do not really read much in the way of classical poetry (Byron, Keats etc) but do tend to read some from ancient Greece and Rome like Callus, Praxilla, Virgil etc. I also tend towards the more abstract or psychedelic poetry of James Douglas Morrison. As mentioned I am a fan of comedy poetry by people like Spike Milligan, Henry Normal and Pam Ayers always raise a laugh." Question 6: What other interests do you have? Pagan Paul: "My main interest is music and the consumption thereof. I listen to a lot of different music from different genres. I have always regretted never learning an instrument or music theory. I also read a lot, especially with regard to the ancient world. The old myths and legends and folklore are also a source of inspiration for my poetry." Carlo C. Gomez: “We would like to thank you Paul, we really appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! It is our pleasure to include you in this Spotlight series!” Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Paul better. We most certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez We will post Spotlight #33 in November! ~
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I show up and plug my music in to the ***** stereo on the rack by the dishwashing station, and the first song that comes on is Misanthrope by the band Death. Just then, the head chef comes back to greet me for the night's work: "How are you tonight?" "Death Metal, Sir. How are you?" "I'm pretty Rock and Roll myself, thank you." And we both went about our respective business via our respective genres. It's incredibly nice to be able to see eye to eye, even through airs of facetiousness.
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Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 10:51 AM UTC
I love my Bosses
~ Emptiness consumes all thought, always lingers close    Feeling less for a moment, until sound approaches the air ~ Time, reality, everything is now illuminated    Emotions up rise, this feeling is familiar but rare ~ Thrills elude the mind, as beats miraculously appear    Voices, faces and expressions are diluted but near ~ Addicting sounds, overwhelming beats, a beautiful mixture    Everyone enjoying it, through the past and future ~ A confidence boost soon approaches, no matter your mood    Secretive meanings, useless thoughts completely delude ~ Through stressful stages of mine, unique rhythms prevail    Stressful states turn to relaxation, seems nothing can fail ~ Whichever, whoever, times change with the vibes    Wherever, whenever, there are new meanings and rhymes ~ Eras will always persuade us with images    Millions of different break downs, incredible visions ~ Gradual change defines the entire industry    While our individuality remains, holding us freely ~ Your own interests influence what's unknown    While the public worlds interests, influence what's overthrown ~ This reality has its own unique mixture of genres    We'll never know those other realities, they're disguised in armor ~ You yourself understand the rhythms that keep you sane    Let the music speak its mind, and run through your every vein   ~Meagan Williams    1.20.13
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Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 5:47 AM UTC
Every Era Evolves~
I’m a shy yet outgoing introvert.   When it comes to getting attention, I will divert I love to give love and try not to hurt I sometimes feel **** and will attempt to flirt When you talk religion and spirituality, please keep all of those labels away from me Because I will whisper into the wind and through the trees as God’s omnipresence is surrounding me Being in nature invigorates and inspires me Viewing wildlife and feeling the cool country breeze The happy return of the flowers and the bees Love new beginnings and feeling free Adventure and travel runs through my veins By land, sky, and sea, I love all terrains Trying new things and experimenting keeps me sane Listening to all genres of music feeds my brain Bronx born and Detroit raised, I thrive on diversity Learning about culture, the arts, and our history are my life’s passions and bring inner harmony Oh well, that is enough about me . . .
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Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 1:23 PM UTC
Me
I love exploring other genres of music expanding my music taste is fun in addition to discovering new artists but do you ever listen to a couple of new songs and immediately afterward feel like you’ve been listening to the song your whole entire life and just fell out of touch with the song upon discovering it once again you feel this strange sense of peace and belonging the strumming of a guitar is so peaceful and calming I have a couple of songs that I’m fond of and in my head, I envision the types of songs that during certain scenarios the songs would be played either at high volume or at a soft volume, it would be so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop  except in the background the strumming of a guitar would be heard   For example when life gets too hectic or I’m feeling overwhelmed just listening to one of these songs makes me forget about life just for a bit and immerse myself in the melody and the message of the song
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Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 10:28 PM UTC
Guitar Strings Strumming My Heart
With so little time I could not decide. Shelf after shelf filled with book upon book. The likes I've dreamed of reading. Most bookstores have there signs posted. Opening and closing time. But this, this was something out of the ordinary. Not a soul wandering through the isles. No checkout line. It was intimate. Being here alone surrounded by book after book. Each with a cover beautifully drawn. Genres of insecurities, dreams, ambitions. Love. Any spot on the floor felt like home. Addressing myself in total seclusion. Mornings spent in thought embraced by the cold air flowing through the vents. Afternoons spent without a thing to do. The nights when a pillow was the only comfort, drifting off to sleep. Slow rather than fast. I flipped through page after page. Wandering from isle to isle undecided in which book I wanted to read first. Eying the shelves one at a time. Finding the beauty in what makes you, you. The marked on pages. The distraught covers. With so little time I didn't want to spend every second over-thinking. Analyzing exactly which stood out the most. When in actuality. They all are a part of you
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Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 10:07 AM UTC
Actuality
What genre of music do you like? Mind: What to declare My love for soulful old melodies Or pragmatic modern beats? For there is no room for error here Heart: I am but a simpleton As far as I am concerned There exists just two genres - The one I love and the one I don't.
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Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 12:17 PM UTC
Dialogue II: Mind and Heart - The Sound of Music
You paint your nails ten different colors and wear three layers of shirts Two shades of eyeshadow and twelve favorite songs in six different genres and hide a rope and a gun under your pillow because you are indecisive.
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Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 9:03 PM UTC
Indecisive
we're friends right? no we are strained acquaintances we are yin yan g with nine colors we are tv static on all night when you're too tired to get up and turn it off we are doodles in the margins of a very importa nt research paper you are lost in everyone forgetting that my middle name is freedom i am putting on metaphorical makeup to mask my emotional blemishes we are sour candy and ginger ale we are obscu re genres of music shoegaze my ****** valentine we are a waterco lor clusterfuck bleeding together like an amateur blood drive read b etween the lines we are biodegradable plastic half covered in the soil untouched for two years we are sunshine and chill bumps I hate you for the same reasons I hate myself we are nostalgia and anxiety we a re insomniacs who only want each other between the hours of 8 pm and 6 am we are avoiding eye contact in the halls
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Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
it's complicated2014.jpg
Amidst created worries, troubles and troubles, as if I were falling into a gaping abyss, half-balancing on the edge of animals, hyena-scavengers, like a shaky-legged, slightly hesitant, underestimated tightrope walker, - I can deliberately hold on or not in the draft of depravity. In the purgatory of an endless rail, as if I were one of those Bosch could have painted in his lifetime; a gathering of hell-shaped soul-shadow visions ready to rage. It would be nice to hide back at least sometimes in some strange, sprawling Hawaiian wilderness, where crystal-clear, raw-visceral emotions can also manifest themselves more emphatically, more faithfully to themselves. A middle-aged rose withers and withers in the filth of big cities, because there was no one left to console her instead of her selfish strawman-peddler husband; because even hook-nosed prophets fall for whales, after devouring even the smallest tadpole embryos. Forever chained as mere passengers in spiral circles, because that is how people are now, intentionally tied to the work methods of unbearable, unfulfillable working hours, petty-gallant deadlines. Because now it seems that washerwomen and hostess models are once again selling their commodity love for tinkling silver coins, until another incomprehensible, twisted property division lawsuit comes; "Daddy and Mommy really love you children! You just know that Mommy and Daddy can't stand each other anymore!" They would rather drown each other in a spoonful of water, if they could do that!" - Thus, the slow, conscious disillusionment can still remain. Among the calculated, manipulative genres of attempts and cheap escapes, there is certainly no one left who would actually understand their job and act as their heart commands?! - A casual party queen or a diva imitating luxury is handing out slaps with stamps stuck on guest masks.
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Sep 12, 2025
Sep 12, 2025 at 12:40 AM UTC
PURGATORY OF ENDLESS DEPTHS
Amidst created worries, troubles and troubles, as if I were falling into a gaping abyss, half-balancing on the edge of animals, hyena-scavengers, like a shaky-legged, slightly hesitant, underestimated tightrope walker, - I can deliberately hold on or not in the draft of depravity. In the purgatory of an endless rail, as if I were one of those Bosch could have painted in his lifetime; a gathering of hell-shaped soul-shadow visions ready to rage. It would be nice to hide back at least sometimes in some strange, sprawling Hawaiian wilderness, where crystal-clear, raw-visceral emotions can also manifest themselves more emphatically, more faithfully to themselves. A middle-aged rose withers and withers in the filth of big cities, because there was no one left to console her instead of her selfish strawman-peddler husband; because even hook-nosed prophets fall for whales, after devouring even the smallest tadpole embryos. Forever chained as mere passengers in spiral circles, because that is how people are now, intentionally tied to the work methods of unbearable, unfulfillable working hours, petty-gallant deadlines. Because now it seems that washerwomen and hostess models are once again selling their commodity love for tinkling silver coins, until another incomprehensible, twisted property division lawsuit comes; "Daddy and Mommy really love you children! You just know that Mommy and Daddy can't stand each other anymore!" They would rather drown each other in a spoonful of water, if they could do that!" - Thus, the slow, conscious disillusionment can still remain. Among the calculated, manipulative genres of attempts and cheap escapes, there is certainly no one left who would actually understand their job and act as their heart commands?! - A casual party queen or a diva imitating luxury is handing out slaps with stamps stuck on guest masks.
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Ok, let me see, where to start? Ah ha! Fav color-black Fav flower-tiger lily Fav season- spring Fav activity-anything creative Fav book-all books tht I've read Hair-brown, medium length Eyes-hazel (blue when really happy) Height-5' 7" Skin-lightly tan Dislikes-rude/mean people extremely cold weather baked beans grits Fav music-country(but I like all genres) Fav song-undecided Likes-sincereness animals Fav animal-snake I don't know what else to put about me, oh well
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
This is my bio
"Biblical texts from all historical periods & in a variety of literary genres demonstrate that in Yahwistic circles, that is,    among people who worshiped Yahweh as the chief god, God was always understood as the one who alone created heaven, earth & all that is in them; Yahweh, the Israelite god, had no rivals, & in a world where nations claimed that their gods were the supreme beings in the universe & that all others were subject to them, the Israelites' claim for the superiority of Yahweh enabled them to imagine that no other nation could rival her. Phrases such as 'Yahweh, God Most High, Creator of heaven and earth'   & related phrases for Yahweh as creator &                                almighty master of the cosmos have parallels in earlier Canaanite terminology for the god El; In fact, the Israelites did not create these phrases but inherited them from earlier Canaanite civilizations; moreover,                  later editors of the Hebrew Bible used them to serve their particular monotheistic theology: their god is the supreme god, & he alone created the universe."      The canon of the Hebrew Bible       was formed of diverse writings composed by many men or women over a long period of time,    under many different circumstances, & in the light of shifting patterns of religious belief & practice.  Indeed, the questions under investigation in   this book concerning the end of an individual's life, the nature of death,    the possibility of divine judgment,   and the resultant reward or punishment   are simply too crucial to have attracted   a single solution unanimously accepted over the millennium of biblical composition."
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
The Untitled Book
"Biblical texts from all historical periods & in a variety of literary genres demonstrate that in Yahwistic circles, that is,    among people who worshiped Yahweh as the chief god, God was always understood as the one who alone created heaven, earth & all that is in them; Yahweh, the Israelite god, had no rivals, & in a world where nations claimed that their gods were the supreme beings in the universe & that all others were subject to them, the Israelites' claim for the superiority of Yahweh enabled them to imagine that no other nation could rival her. Phrases such as 'Yahweh, God Most High, Creator of heaven and earth'   & related phrases for Yahweh as creator &                                almighty master of the cosmos have parallels in earlier Canaanite terminology for the god El; In fact, the Israelites did not create these phrases but inherited them from earlier Canaanite civilizations; moreover,                  later editors of the Hebrew Bible used them to serve their particular monotheistic theology: their god is the supreme god, & he alone created the universe."      The canon of the Hebrew Bible       was formed of diverse writings composed by many men or women over a long period of time,    under many different circumstances, & in the light of shifting patterns of religious belief & practice.  Indeed, the questions under investigation in   this book concerning the end of an individual's life, the nature of death,    the possibility of divine judgment,   and the resultant reward or punishment   are simply too crucial to have attracted   a single solution unanimously accepted over the millennium of biblical composition."
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