Day 13: #OctPoWriMo
Prompt: Art in the wayward mind
True! So True! I loved the images and taking inspiration from them allowed my thoughts to drift around a bit before coming to a standstill in front of an unused and old palette lying alone at one corner.
My poem for the day :
As the rays of the morning sun
Fell on the palette lying forlorn,
The dried colors gleamed back in delight!
Red, orange, blue, pink, green and white
The rainbow adorned his studio
And the artist came back to life!
Freedom of expression decked each composition
Thoughts, emotions imprisoned for so long
Came tumbling down like the voracious torrent
As each stroke of the brush waltzed on the blank canvas
The air became resplendent with music
Music of love for art, for the artist
Bouquets of suppressed feelings
Deep, profound engraved the drawings
The spectators gaped in amazement
Praise, adulation, name and fame
All showered on the silhouetted frame,
Still peace was not to be found
He roamed for inspiration day and night
That insatiable hunger for the ultimate portrait
Left him restless, sleepless, homeless
They pointed at him and said,” There goes a madman! Beware!”
Ha! No one understood his quest!
The everlasting affair of Muse with the artist
The bitter sweet relationship
Of creativity with pursuit
Till the final piece of art,
Evoked the pain within,
They said ,” It’s his best work, till date,”
Ignorant of the situations that lead,
To carve the final stroke,
With his last breath, “ The End”.
Prompt: Art in the wayward mind
True! So True! I loved the images and taking inspiration from them allowed my thoughts to drift around a bit before coming to a standstill in front of an unused and old palette lying alone at one corner.
My poem for the day :
As the rays of the morning sun
Fell on the palette lying forlorn,
The dried colors gleamed back in delight!
Red, orange, blue, pink, green and white
The rainbow adorned his studio
And the artist came back to life!
Freedom of expression decked each composition
Thoughts, emotions imprisoned for so long
Came tumbling down like the voracious torrent
As each stroke of the brush waltzed on the blank canvas
The air became resplendent with music
Music of love for art, for the artist
Bouquets of suppressed feelings
Deep, profound engraved the drawings
The spectators gaped in amazement
Praise, adulation, name and fame
All showered on the silhouetted frame,
Still peace was not to be found
He roamed for inspiration day and night
That insatiable hunger for the ultimate portrait
Left him restless, sleepless, homeless
They pointed at him and said,” There goes a madman! Beware!”
Ha! No one understood his quest!
The everlasting affair of Muse with the artist
The bitter sweet relationship
Of creativity with pursuit
Till the final piece of art,
Evoked the pain within,
They said ,” It’s his best work, till date,”
Ignorant of the situations that lead,
To carve the final stroke,
With his last breath, “ The End”.
What a lovely poem. Well done Amrita :)
ReplyDeleteSo poignant! It captures beautifully what I was thinking about as I wrote today's prompt. Thank you for this!
ReplyDeleteI'm drawn to this line:
ReplyDelete"As each stroke of the brush waltzed on the blank canvas
The air became resplendent with music"
Thank you. xoA
Thank you all for stopping by and liking my work!
ReplyDeleteLove!