My Operama artwork
Monday, May 10, 2010 3:55:45 PM
the mind of a painter
Sunday, May 2, 2010 8:51:32 AM
she leaves through the door of darkness
complaining about the world being like a sponge
erasing the darkness and soaking up the light
"isnt that alright?", they would ask-
"what would the blistered pig know about being holy"-she thought
but never answered...
she painted the path with no house
painted the nude man with no stroking muscle
painted the girl with no urgency of sanity...
they never understood her mind
they hated her-spurn her
"what would the one legged dog know about peace"-she thought
but never answered...
her deep eyes x-rayed through the strangers' eyes
and she found void...
living there was just enough for them
they were never there to be tranformed
she was never there to reveal
it was the constancy -
of a motion,she could never accept..
it was a different language she spoke
distant chamber she lived
where only being there was not enough.[/I]
complaining about the world being like a sponge
erasing the darkness and soaking up the light
"isnt that alright?", they would ask-
"what would the blistered pig know about being holy"-she thought
but never answered...
she painted the path with no house
painted the nude man with no stroking muscle
painted the girl with no urgency of sanity...
they never understood her mind
they hated her-spurn her
"what would the one legged dog know about peace"-she thought
but never answered...
her deep eyes x-rayed through the strangers' eyes
and she found void...
living there was just enough for them
they were never there to be tranformed
she was never there to reveal
it was the constancy -
of a motion,she could never accept..
it was a different language she spoke
distant chamber she lived
where only being there was not enough.[/I]
its being hard....
Monday, November 16, 2009 1:36:18 PM
it was being too easy;
yet too sophisticated ;
to be in love.
an emptiness was in their back-
torturing them,
ruling them,
luring them...
it was close
closed like a book...
where the pages begged to get ink..
but words were forgotten.
and yet elegant
if antiques on the cover got dusty to be remembered...
he liked the elegance in her,
she loved the white pages..
was being too hard yet too confident
and a silence hovered them both
it was easy to live
it was hard to just be..[/FONT][/COLOR]
yet too sophisticated ;
to be in love.
an emptiness was in their back-
torturing them,
ruling them,
luring them...
it was close
closed like a book...
where the pages begged to get ink..
but words were forgotten.
and yet elegant
if antiques on the cover got dusty to be remembered...
he liked the elegance in her,
she loved the white pages..
was being too hard yet too confident
and a silence hovered them both
it was easy to live
it was hard to just be..[/FONT][/COLOR]
to the man who has an obscure contentment
Tuesday, September 1, 2009 6:40:31 AM
moment in a silent meditation
what he knows in what he sees-
none for what he feels;
what he hears and which symphony dies
beyond mistic disputation,
when he looks for a changed part
of a change or a discovery.
he conceals a vision of transparency
whose blunt laws make an affection of mind-
what obscurity had those eyes have
if it captures you in silence and you lose yourself?...
sharing of colour, he takes the life of it
when nothing changes
except for the motion of a moving natue,
where he seeks for a person
whose soul meets body
catastrophe of his mind wreaths him beneath
when he leaves fo an unknown sphere
and theres no hint of prophecy
but they said-
encroachment of his spirit left behind.
what he knows in what he sees-
none for what he feels;
what he hears and which symphony dies
beyond mistic disputation,
when he looks for a changed part
of a change or a discovery.
he conceals a vision of transparency
whose blunt laws make an affection of mind-
what obscurity had those eyes have
if it captures you in silence and you lose yourself?...
sharing of colour, he takes the life of it
when nothing changes
except for the motion of a moving natue,
where he seeks for a person
whose soul meets body
catastrophe of his mind wreaths him beneath
when he leaves fo an unknown sphere
and theres no hint of prophecy
but they said-
encroachment of his spirit left behind.
maisha
Friends (13)
Shoutbox
Menelik
2010-04-05 16:35:56HEY!!!!!!where u @ DEAR, its been a century we last talked...whats happening?
Sugary Poison
2009-12-26 20:11:39amazing blogs :) its kinda surprising though..u r realy matured for ur age
Latest comments
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Tags
- a frolic architecture
- a kiss
- A LITTLE MISFORTUNE
- a soldier' s letter to his mother
- another haiku
- beauty
- DEAD
- emblem of passion
- emblem of passion-2; memories.................
- HAIKUS
- i saw a little boy sleeping on the footpath
- i saw an old man smiling
- if i were a poem.........
- ITS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE POEM
- last letter
- life and reality
- my first poem(a little one)
- nature
- one night with the silent man
- pale face
