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To be an artist is to create something that expresses abstract emotions and to translate them into the language of the senses.
at leastyou and iat most just the same
Medicine It’s been apart of my life ever since I was little I hated medicine All the pokes and pins All the stickers and Batman bandaids to make me feel better
It's a wordit's a passionit's a life. It's carefulit's creative and alive. It's beautifuland silentbut it speaks. it's a world whereanyone can be.
Never did I think eyes so expressive A nod so profound Yet my heart filled with pride As someone else gazed upon my Creation Then up at me Still and alert A second passes
I withstood the pressure
My fingers graze the back of the page on which I spilled my soul. I run them over the indentations where my pen carved my feelings into the pure, white, sheet. How is it that such an act could be considered normal?
All I ever wanted was to love. To learn from past people's progress To open my mind to new ideas To vizualize a world unknown To eventually create my own.
Different, Yes, But just like you; Only I have a gift. I can make castles, So pure, So clean. Watch, I'll show you. This city, A city of glass,
I wake up wishing I had't, for seeing this world in a negative light has become habit. The only thing that helps me survive is a band, for music is what keeps me alive.
Radiant light heats the body and begin to make it melt Eyes set on the melting body watch its every movement The melting essence speaks its words as its been told before
here my eyes slowly blink i'm not sure what she's saying the mechanical pencil in my hand clicks to reveal some lead click click click i break the thin cyclinder click click click
I feel electric walking through a park engulfed with happy princes, children skipping, people playing to their laughter. singing strings of guitars in this park the mirth of drooping spilling coins in their cases.
On the days you don’t feel appreciated Just know that we are here To guide you through the thunderstorms And comfort you out of fear
I find myself writing as a poet and as a writer things in this world I don't understand trying to decipher life's mysteries, and working hard to understand our freedoms, liberties
I am solid, but my lips... They are writhing, flowing, alive. I am to create, To breathe life into the death Pervading my world. But I am still. Mouths create words, create phrases,
When I was younger, I had the idea that reality was like a soft sheet, If you were scared, you could cower back into the comfort of what you know to be home, If you were angry, you could rip it to shreds,
I wish there were more people who walked around the streets with sighs that read: "Free Hugs!" I hate to admit, and I know others are too, that in my life, I needed those people.
I am unstable. I am fine. The dark eyed boy in Physics says I'm a dime. He is audacious to call a quarter a dime.
My reflection is in my eyes And in my hands They are always moving Trying to find an abode Trying to find a cause Looking upon the distant faces With no color to define them
May the sun kiss you With unconditional love from the universe On one condition though:
I dance everyday.
The life of a young woman is boundless and untamed There is no way of telling where she will go next or who she will become The crazy twirl that destincts Who she is The girl I was years ago is gone
Creativity comes in whispers.. I grab them hastily, Holding them in my head, making them tranquile. Ive done the impossible With the swift of a wrist I fit the pieces That didnt exist
“You walk funny.” These words have plagued my school experience. No one knows the reason behind this walk, They don’t know that my muscles don’t work and I’m slower than the rest
I don’t know much about life But I know about art Art is a hard task; there are no shortcuts Art is not always beautiful It sometimes can be depressing The right brush can create a masterpiece
The world is surrounded with thing of a dream. The stars are all shining; look at them gleam! Though things might get harder, we can still sing. Let us live for our new day so we can live in Beauty!
Well this is quite a surprise. I've never been asked this inquiry before.
From the tip of my pencil And the curves of my lines I create. I see a face. An ear. An arm. I feel. The image rises And it is no Stranger to me. It is my Creation.
We love to hate but hate to love everyday i watch girls cover their face with make-up we pour ourselves into our jeans trying to fit the mold of what we think we should be
I stare at myself in the mirror, And the image looking back at me is one that is disappointing, I look in the mirror and the body that appears infront of me, does not match my mind.
Adrenaline pumps as a worry wart scurries, preparing the utter but cruel fate of the "real" world. Tick tock, a race against the clock, call me White Rabbit as I tend to fret for the minute feelings in a myriad of ways.
These things really do happen. We're told our whole lives that if we dream it, we can make it happen Stick with that sport, hobbie, job or talent and it will eventually happen
We drift away to Narnia in our sleep, if only to gain some solace from the dreadful company we keep. In spite of the futility of it, we crave and thrive within the vicinity of our creation.
The Birth Creativity was born that day Words erupt onto the paper In a volcanic spew of notes and rhythms Fire licks its way up my throat As smoke clouds my eyes A resurrection of the soul
many dream i have dreamt dreaming makes us human imagination makes us live having a passion fills you with excitement and sets you free making videos would be my dream job writing has inspired me
There are seven billion people on this planet that I have yet to meet, and one hundred ninety-five countries I have not visited. Yet I am stuck in this insignificant town,
life is like a canvas u add paint chage the color make the design but with this canvass you are never sure on how the canvas would look or how people will percieve it
Fettered to a spinning sphere
To the poet who uses words to explore, to you who thinks you know more, you manipulate a bondage of words to stage, I the historial who studies the past,
Create a world that is your own. In any time, screen or stone. Life is clay and the living are the sculptors. With several personalities,gentile or vulgar. We are our own artists.
Dust in the airGlaze creating a glare.
To create a masterpiece means creating something that no one else has done. To create a masterpiece is to create something that people are afraid to create
you know its spring when,a chalky finger points the wayon the face of broken pavement too,a tulip gardens bed and,a splash of color grows.
There's a girl I knew Who wore a curtain over her face That blurred the person underneath And stole her precious personality She lived on cloud 9 In a house made of broken hearts
What can I say? Life... It strikes me to my very core. The warmth grows inside, Empowers me to feel even more. Oh the energy built up within! Let loose your madness and create!
discover knowledge imagine possible world create future ART
You look up at me wishing your lives would change, sometimes with tears in your eyes, other times angry with hearts full of hate. I listen to your dreams and hopes every night and can't help but wander what it is to dream, to love, to live.
So much talent, And I know I have the energy I see beauty in everything. In every blade of grass In every piece of trash, I see intricacy. The problem is finding the time, The time to create.
The beast in me has woken up. The howling of the light that shone through my soul untied the knot of frenetic encapsulation.
This world around me is shattering. Ever so slowly Piece by piece They crack and fall. To reveal something ugly Something broken.
I know it started with a cry. Bright light in my eyes—a breath, my parent’s sighs. They said “welcome to the world,” Our world. I’d come to know it, soon enough. To me the world began small.
Go where you must The people don't choose, You are in charge of what you do with you. It may seem hard, a little rough, But all things considered don't ever bluff. Don't lie or cheat,
Suffocating in darkness As a diseased light paved my way I attempted to scale the barriers That separated me from the outside where life thrived