Poetry competition CLOSED 26th November 2020 11:56pm
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Painting Words

Dangerous Mind
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Joined 29th July 2018
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Poetry Contest

Write a poem based on your favorite piece of art
Write a poem based on your favorite work of art. It can be a painting, sculpture, photograph, etc. The artwork can be by a famous artist or someone unknown (though they may be known to you!).

1. New poem only
2. One poem per poet/poetess
3. Please include a picture of your inspiration artwork here in the comp thread
4. On your profile page, in the authors note, be sure to name the artist and title of the artwork if known.
5. No collaborations

If you have any questions please PM me. You have three weeks!

Dangerous Mind
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Joined 29th July 2018
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Masterpiece of Melancholia

The clouds are a dark and brooding  
heart, singing their woeful songs  
of heartbreak and loss.

As the tide gathers  
her fanning skirts and retreats back  
to the solace of a sleeping night, she leaves  
in her wake a vessel.  
It whistles and creaks as wind  
dances around the mast, sails long ago taken  
by the frothing waves of the sea.  
My favorite of your brushes, weeping  
magic upon the canvas--

A masterpiece of melancholia.  
~The first time I saw the finished work was  
at the annual Fine Arts Gala. It did not win an  
award, but It was voted  
People’s Choice.  
I knew that night it would belong to me.
Written by Eerie
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Fire of Insight
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Joined 17th Sep 2020
Forum Posts: 61

Lines on a photograph #1

She has a quiet pride in self
some great composure not unknown
of those with mind of great wealth
and under her eye I have grown.
With nineteenth century expressions
her mode of dress agčd as well
through her sight I gain inspiration
her thought to me chime still a bell.
I make no dirge no song of lament
I draw in words from long ago
and I smile at these Grandma has sent
''No no, my dear, do not take on so.''
Now, with the drying up of my pen
and the weakening of wrist
I am here where you were there when,
You rightly glanced back to those, you missed.
Written by Insiderew (Rew)
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Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
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Joined 24th Mar 2019
Forum Posts: 402


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Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 10th May 2020
Forum Posts: 141

Christina’s World

My life...  
my legs they have kept far away from me
From the loft
From the rafters  
In the night come rumbling  
The pans had fallen from the shelves  
In the growing distance  
My home  
In the growing distance  
It has spread before me
And no longer reaches the gingham  
The hem and floral petals  
Shiver in the wind  
Something grows in the space  
From here to there..  
an emptiness  
And yet it grows  
My smile haunts my forehead  
It creases and is spittled with heat  
My smile had fallen from the shelves  
Along with the pans  
And my Mothers booming laugh  
My Mothers laughter echoes the distance
It is like lightning crack  
When I awaken from it  
And can no longer find my step  
I reach ..  
I pull away with timid hand
I am the field mouse  
I am the scarecrow off her post  
I am beauty on an island  
Of memory and remorse  
And the Sea
She folds into browns  
The screams of the cicada
Written by Calamityofgin
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Dangerous Mind
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Joined 29th July 2018
Forum Posts: 420

Thank you Insiderew, nomoth and Calamityofgin for kicking things off with stellar submissions!

Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 17th Jan 2019
Forum Posts: 16

The Veil

I wonder,    
do you feel me  
underneath your veil?
You're close enough to touch,  
but not enough to feel.  
This veil gives us a  
sense of comfort,    
but it is merely an illusion.  
For beneath the opacity    
we suffer from  
loneliness &    
As much as I love you,  
and want you to stay,  
inevitably, I feel you  
once more    
slipping away  
into the veil's    
Written by solanaceae
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Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 17th Jan 2019
Forum Posts: 16

Oops, okay I figured out how to put the photo with my entry.

Twisted Dreamer
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Joined 21st Sep 2020
Forum Posts: 17

Weathering The Storm

(Painting shown is not the painting described)
I can't show it to you
Haven't seen it for a long time
Not since 4th grade
A field trip to the art museum
I liked art
I looked at every painting there
But one
It stood out to me
I never understood art until that painting
It was a sailing ship
During a storm
But not one where you could see the ship fighting the waves
The point of view was from the cabin door
The point of view was everything
The winds were blowing
The rain was coming down in waves from the sky
You couldn't see the end of the ship
All I remember vividly was a bucket and a rope
Just outside the door
The rope was coiled and the wooden bucket sat in the middle
It was big rope
One end in the bucket and the other trailing from the coil
It traveled off into the nothingness of the storm
There were other items you could see
They were being tossed about from one side to the other
But not the rope and the bucket
You could tell
They didn't move
The sudden realization that the artist wasn't painting this because he liked ships
It wasn't something he read in a book
There was only one way he would have known the rope didn't move
He was there
Suddenly, so was I
The winds were howling in my ear
I could feel the rains hitting my face
The waves were tossing the ship
Like a pair of dice in a craps game in the alley behind the soda shop
Seasickness hit and like that I was back grabbing for a waste basket
I never told a soul
Years passed, and I went back to the art museum
Searching for an oil painting I never found
Imagine how I felt when I realized words can do the same
Written by TimWombles
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Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 5th Sep 2018
Forum Posts: 439

England’s Rose

Spirits of ancient sovereign calls to the serenity of the stratosphere    
A caressed embraced on the soft winds she proudly stands  
In the soft continuance of such a beautiful mystique  
Complacent hues of passion dances upon the silhouette of elegance, her eloquence    
Appeasing admiration ordained in the chasm of her benevolent soul    
Undefiled beauty in its splendid glory    
Lamentable mourns the bestowed warmth behind the veil of the sun    
Cherished among the cloak of celestial stars    
Crestal cadence to the touch of hushed reminisce    
The finality of hopes slowly flickered the ambience of forgotten visions    
Mortality of lineage infinity moralized    
The true essence of admiration behind the passion of such femininity    
Silently bows to the throne of Heaven’s grace    
Stalwart in absence’s despair for the longing of anointing poise    
She is woman, she is England’s Rose    
And I am me, monarch within  
Written by SweetKittyCat5
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Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1228

Ode to The Persistence of Memory

      tock            tock    
 tick                       tick    
tock          |___         tock    
    tick                     tick    
       tock           tock    
The hands of time keep moving  
Without stopping    
                                or s-l-o-w-i-n-g down  
But in my mind I’m drawn toward some surreal dream  
To somewhere in –  
                                 - and out of memory  
Maybe it’s the    
Maybe it’s the    
Maybe it’s my    
                        fondness for the sentimental of yesteryear  
Perhaps the recollection of life    
and times m  
                             i             g  
                                   n               away  
                                              into an illusion    
Born from the subconscious    
                                                 Rising up to the surface  
         Time becomes relative  
in my mind…  
When something    
         “The other day” may mean    
                 -decades ago-  
while recent fleeting moments |||| escape ||||  
                                                    Only to be captured  
                                 By distorted colors    
and purported words  
I become entranced    
                   O   O  
          By \_ Dali _/    
  and his    
of   mind  
as the  
           persistence of memory  
         l        s  
             t      away…      
Written by wallyroo92
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Dangerous Mind
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Joined 29th July 2018
Forum Posts: 420

Thank you, Wally, SweetKittyCat, Tim, and Solanaceae for these fantastic entries!

Guardian of Shadows
United States
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Joined 17th Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 5254

Gray and Gold

(written for Eerie's "Painting Words" comp)

See there, how the wheat stalks, sway,
hallow’d, dressed in gold and gray.
Storm clouds, laden, bound and brewing,
shallow whispers, what’s ensuing.

(I need a resurrection in the rain)

Should the devil come to meet me
crossroads, dry and dusty greeting:
“Halloo there, son, your soul, I’ll need;
a sip of death, for a cool breeze.”

( I walk among the rows of grain)

I shan’t embrace the imp as mine,
Image on some “wanted” sign;
outlaw, grinning, from the pole,
awaiting some unholy goal.

( O Lord, my God, I hear your train)

Fence posts run along forever,
unpaved roads and bread, unleavened.
Prepare, now, for the Feast of Days;
here comes the wind, here come the rains.

( Selah, to the righteous ways)
Written by MadameLavender
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Dangerous Mind
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Joined 29th July 2018
Forum Posts: 420

Thank you, MadameLavender for this striking, spiritual entry.

Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
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Joined 1st Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 505

Banksy ?

Commissioned, by needs so profound
the salt that stings an open wound.
Pathos bringing its own cult
hangs the entire wall all by itself.
The gallery  to make you gulp
the pleading eyes that ask for help.
Spray can etch a pentagram
to be a lion not a lamb.
A spell of everything so wrong
holds the futures on a slender string.
To feel and greet just suffering,
the bubble floats, should we just sit?
So tied with no initiative
or pull down tomorrows hopes decal.
The sign that time won't heed our call
 Extinction - Rebellion will succeed.
And children not deafened to the need
to make their future evergreen.
Written by slipalong
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