HAIKU: PAINTING MY PORTRAIT

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Colored days passing

Poetry Equals (2)

Poetry =
pictures
painted with
palabras

In Constable’s footsteps

Went to Brighton to see the original
on short loan from the Tate
It’s quite a lot bigger than the one on my wall
and to see it there was great

A Constable retrospective
representing four years’ toils
When he lived right here in Brighton
with some drawings and some oils

Jolly Early

It’s awfully jolly early
to be up on a weekend
But we’re off (us two) to London
to visit an old friend
And as we’re paid up members
we get an early special tour
There before the crowds get in
what our membership is for

Happy World Poetry Day!: An Homage to William Wordsworth

Ah, once again, there they go,
a slight roll of the eyes
and a recoil from something foul,
but we know – you and I –

but most I’ve met in daily life
react with mild disdain

Art for my sake

Brush in hand
I decide on the first stroke
Relieved to have got this far
Having chosen what to paint

Painted

The day began with sunshine
so I popped down to the beach
armed with paints and brushes
and a long pole for to reach
the top bit of the beach hut
as it needs a lick of paint
It took me several hours
but a craftsman I just ain’t

Cocoons – Butterfly

Sad

Lonely

Hurt

Discouraged

Lost

Empty

Trapped

Angry

Where are you, Lord?

I’m everywhere, I’m here, with you.

Garnished Millennial’s

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Pure tones of beige mix with red’s…

a shaker spray of pepper descends.

Watercolour Sky

Watercolour Sky

The image is built  in a series of layers
First, a pale blue wash across the sky
Then, broad brush strokes of pale icy cirrus
With pen details of contrails crossing at the midpoint

Interesting (Slight Return)

Show me a colour, one that describes me
Look at my face – the colour behind my eyes
It cries for the sun and pines away on these rainy days
Curled in a ball and shivering,
It longs for a blue that paints the skies

Flamingos

You have got to love
Flamingos, their saucy moves
Ladies in high heels

Four colours

 

White for the winter
Spring gets the green
Yellow for summer
Autumn gold we have seen

Masterpiece

 

I stepped inside a masterpiece
with reds and oranges and
yellows liberally added
by Nature’s abstract hand

Portrait of Autumn

 

With magenta and pink
and purple and red
and yellow and orange
and vermillion instead

A thousand sunsets

 

If I could paint a thousand sunsets
I would capture every one
With a kaleidoscope of colour
Born of the golden sun
My palette would be filled
With yellows, reds and gold
And my brushstrokes on the canvas
Flamboyant, strong and bold

My Gallery

Last night the moonlight painted
Translucent streaks across the sky
Such was the beauty of that sight
I felt moved enough to cry

Iridescence speaks

 

Here there are the makings of colour
with moisture and warmth and light
whilst a virginal palette, bereft awaits

Here, in its gift, as though a magician
the power of iridescence and shine
But no trickery here, no slight of hand

Pictures

 

There are so many colours
To choose from every day
The only problem, which to use
Depends on what’s to say

Sea King

Massive wave hills were breaking further out than I had ever seen.
I told myself and my friend that I would stay close-by shore,
And go no further, no more.
Slipping into the icy froth of the rip express lane,
Passing familiar rocky point,
I sat on my board, just gliding seaward like floating royalty in a river coronation,
Absorbing solar praise,
Robed regally in wet fur seal like suit,
Laughingly shouting back to my friend enjoying the shore-break surfing:
“Check this out!”
Forgetting to embrace shoreline wisdom.

That little girl I know (Poetry challenge: ABC Poem)

Alone,

By herself,

Cheerful and gay,

Doing what she loves,

Ever inspired, as some say,

Towards Light

oil painting by Apurva

Traversing boundaries,

Transgressing might,

I bow to you,

O Glorious sunlight!

© Apurva

Something Fishy (painting poem2)

For those who love to interpret a piece of art as much as create it!

Who is that young lad,

fishing all alone,

looking utterly lost,

as if he has no home?

Who is that little boy,

who seems so at peace,

watching little fish

give his bait a tug and tease?

The painting.

Poetry challenge: Nonet

I Look into the acrylic world
A universe full of colour
A painted promenade stroll
leads me to wondrous things