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Array ( [sid] => 175883 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Artist [time] => 2013-04-28 23:37:28 [hometext] => A take on the mindset of the thoughtful, who live in a world of pessimism, disguised as hope, guided by the small doses of their optimism [bodytext] => I am an artist
Always striving
And starving
To fulfill my desire to paint

A beautiful replication of the world
But with every glance I take
I can't see the heavens
So instead I paint the sky

A stretch of blue with terrestrial semen
That I hope one day washes
Upon the soiled eggs of life
And bring the glory of color
To this darkened world

Beams of green
Explosions of red
Pillars of brown
And expanses of gold

I wish for the joy that i call my own
To be bestowed upon every soul
I have no greed beyond that which is natural
Everyday I throw new dreams upon the canvas sheet

A deluge of emotion
A destructive collage of suffering and glee
Hoping soon that the end result
Will touch another for the better

Every time I paint
Something is taken out of me
Every time I picture
My eyes get one bit blinder

Every time I illustrate
My arms get weaker with the strokes
Every time I ellaborate
My mind decays

I wish to spread the beauty
To the spirits of the world
Be it near or far
Before my soul dies too [comments] => 3 [counter] => 200 [topic] => 21 [informant] => xHeathenx [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
The Artist

Contributed by xHeathenx on Sunday, 28th April 2013 @ 11:37:28 PM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems



I am an artist
Always striving
And starving
To fulfill my desire to paint

A beautiful replication of the world
But with every glance I take
I can't see the heavens
So instead I paint the sky

A stretch of blue with terrestrial semen
That I hope one day washes
Upon the soiled eggs of life
And bring the glory of color
To this darkened world

Beams of green
Explosions of red
Pillars of brown
And expanses of gold

I wish for the joy that i call my own
To be bestowed upon every soul
I have no greed beyond that which is natural
Everyday I throw new dreams upon the canvas sheet

A deluge of emotion
A destructive collage of suffering and glee
Hoping soon that the end result
Will touch another for the better

Every time I paint
Something is taken out of me
Every time I picture
My eyes get one bit blinder

Every time I illustrate
My arms get weaker with the strokes
Every time I ellaborate
My mind decays

I wish to spread the beauty
To the spirits of the world
Be it near or far
Before my soul dies too




Copyright © xHeathenx ... [ 2013-04-28 23:37:28]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: The Artist (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Sunday, 28th April 2013 @ 11:49:34 PM AEST
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Wow, incredible writing!

Thank you,

Tim


Re: The Artist (User Rating: 1 )
by alicewhite on Friday, 13th February 2015 @ 03:23:06 PM AEST
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These lines stand out for me

Beams of green
Explosions of red
Pillars of brown
And expanses of gold

and make me think of these lines also,
not blowing my own trumpet ,lol
but you get the jist I guess

RED GREEN AND WHITE STARLIGHT
Has anyone else seen that star in the sky
it shine's red and green alternating with pure white


Re: The Artist (User Rating: 1 )
by Archie on Sunday, 13th September 2015 @ 07:21:29 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
I think I get some of it: you grow weaker with each thing you share, there is some truth in this. I think you grow stronger too even though something was taken from you.




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