Write A Poem About Your Art

There was a young man from Connecticut
His art was lost on the internet
He posted and posted
Boasted and boasted
But his art was tossed in a redirect!

How is that for a limerick?

Dave

LOL. Fast and furious, Dave.

thanks John

EDIT: ha! clearly I misunderstood. Sorry!

last Masterpiece
..........a piece to make
my mother smile
if there's to be no more
a masterpiece then
worthy of
the refrigerator door
Crayola alla prima
a family portrait piece
figures done Picasso style
and colored like Matisse
purple grass a pink brick house
an orange plane in the sky
a spotted dog a big blue cat
on the sidewalk running by
cursive e's of chimney smoke
rise through a flock of v's
against the radiating lines
of a yellow sun or " cheese ? "
A work to match as best I could
the art I made back when
my pallett was a cigar box
of crayons
to dig in
Not so big maybe eight by ten
construction paper size
that seemed to be the golden mean
to catch my mothers eyes
she'd place it when I'd finished
with a magnet held in place
among the notes and recipes
somewhere she'd find a space
a special place of honor
like she'd always done before
when she once displayed each masterpiece
on her refrigerator door........

In Loving Memory of my biggest fan
most forgiving critic
and most wonderful Mother
Billie Ruth Dillon
September 10, 1924 - February 10, 2015

Randomly flowing tendrils wind across a sterile backdrop,
oozing color harmoniously over chaotic interplaying streams,
somewhat of an unplanned fantasy,
a happy accident,
a series of liquid dreams.


Okay, that's what I got, ... doing it spontaneously right here without any first draft or reworking

wow Michael and Robert - each unique, each very special.

Tools Of The Trade

My work is a window
To something beyond
The place I call home
A place long gone
It comes from a source
Much greater than I
For I am a tool
The hand and the eye

Joe Burgess 5/7/15
J.B. Imagery

Perfect Squares

Kazimir, Piet, Diego,
Juan, Pablo, Georges

Squares all

Perfect cubes for an ism

As scene at the MoMA


Compliments

My paintbrush
picks up paint
And brushes
the canvas
The canvas
returns the compliment


Perfect Work of Art

Through the window of my painting studio
the winter sky is framed like a fine work of art

Sycamore branches look like old bare bones
trembling in an arctic breeze
dancing on one foot shivering in nakedness

The trees are solitary not leaf nor bird for companions
alone in a cloudless sky of over-mixed watercolor

I am at once struck by the stark beauty

Then the realization that I will never create
such a perfect work of art with my hands

There once was a boy named "Kernodle"
He never could learn how to yodel.
He screeched and he whined
but his voice never climbed
much farther than a whisper sum total.

Okay, that was just for fun - I wanted to see whether I could do it.

There was a girl from New York
Who couldn't eat pizza with a fork

Moved down to Savannah Georgia
Where the oaks are massive and the moss is incredible,

Found FAA and made new friends,
Love my colleagues to no end,

Sold two prints in the first four months,
Going through a dry spell but won't give up,

Have learned alot from this site,
Advertising myself with tons of invites,

Hoping to be able to get recognition,
So I can find a way to pay for tuition,

It has become a great journey,
No need for an attorney,

Because FAA makes our sales simple

This was not edited so it isn't great lol...Hope you all enjoyed

Fell on my face on a new mowed lawn
rolled over onto my back to a fading dawn

walked to the edge of the freeway at rush hour
ran across those four lanes I’m no coward

over the fence through the gate as if I were late
with my mind and body soul in a frenzied state
I sat on a park bench to make observations that might rate

crawled back home before it got to late
Boy what it takes to kick start the creative process

I think I’m finally ready to paint

Jim Taylor 5/7/2015

There once was a boy named "Kernodle"
He never could learn how to yodel.
He screeched and he whined
but his voice never climbed
much farther than a whisper sum total.


There was a young man who could doddle
His name was Robert Kernodle
He climbed the Alps
with green colored scalps
and fell down from on high eating an apple strudel!!


Note I did not steal anything from anyone else this time. LOL

Dave

I'm hard to pin down,
Not easy to find
'Cause I use paint and paper
To hide behind.

JL,

I am monitoring you....

;P

Dave