My face is my canvas you see

Because of things that happened

to me.

Modern makeup my pallet be

to cover the scars that were left by he.

The freckles I don't mind, school boys

don't tease me about them anymore

but the dark circles under my eyes

and my broken nose I can at least paint

them prettier to even the score.

Picasso Pablo Ruiz

A great was painter he

Too sculptor a printmaker and

Of master el lapíz

And born was in Spain he

Pablo Picasso Ruiz

One of artists the greatest of

The 20th century

Soon to he moved Paris

Blue first then rose was he

Made then experimental work

He that dream like a seemed

Was style his so unique

Like abstract geometry

Physics-defying collage-like

New and fragmentary

He fortune gained and fame

He legend a became

His revolutionary style

It was Cubism named

Pablo Ruiz Picasso

A great painter was he

A sculptor and printmaker too

Master of el lapíz

Tears behind a painted smile.

Never again will you see me cry;

look in my eyes and they will be dry.

My feelings I bury down deep in my brain.

The emptiness there, I’ve no way to explain.

My laughter to my own ears sounds quite insane,

I love you, I guess that will always remain.

Letting you go, watching as you fly,

swallowing my pain, I wave goodbye,

tears behind a painted smile.

(c) 2017 - dustygrein

** Note: This form is known as a SYMETRELLE, and is less than 20 years old. Its rigid syllable counts (7/9/9/11/11/11/11/9/9/7), its rhyme scheme (A,b,b,c,c,c,c,b,b,A) and the refrain line, which bookends the poem as the first and last line, make it a lot of fun to craft -- even when the subject matter is painful.

I am a canvas:

I started out blank, white, stark

And gradually everyone began to make marks

My mother's pink strokes and my dad's red and green streaks

Then my friends came and went with patterns and peaks

But you made a mark on my life like no other

A single gray dot in the midst of the color

Right in the center of the canvas of my life

Something I hold onto in moments of strife

Makes me remember a person can love

Even though your dot is fading, you whisper from above

As new loves bring me turquoises and yellows and blues

Right in the midst of that madness, is you.

She was a painter

But isn't she still?

She passed away over fifteen years ago

But her paintings hang on my walls

In my house that she has never seen

Are pieces of her

Stories she decided to tell 

In layers of oil paint

Textures on canvas

Colors created, not found

Pictures imagined, not taken

Motion arrested, not captured

Love with no words

Magic with no spells

Beauty with no mirrors

A painting

painting of my beautiful thoughts,

 well arranged in single chrome .

although my fingers  always fail,

 those  painted strips of colorful  acrylic strips of dictionary painting floor.

part:2 

painting of my beautiful thoughts,

 of

certain current theme of changing scenarios.

well arranged

in mixed up chrome of different shades of light and dark.

but failed to depict in colorful oil painting tone.

part:3

painting of my beautiful thoughts,

of

imaginary beloved.

 well arranged.

in different shades of literary lines,

of  real appreciable happiness.

 but still failed to

 express

in

 monotonous tone of stills of beloved beauty

 so  i can stop

and

enjoy the flare of 

newborn  painter

although not of 

M. F Hussain 

yet literary snail

of colorful painted thoughts.

You paint the world

and drench all in colour

Each Face 

Each Flower

Each Lover

It is your power

It is seeing the unseen

living in each stroke and brush

tucked away at day and alive at night

It is the battle to fight

when mind meets heart

and blood drips slowly

to make your art

It is sunrise to the eyes who cannot 

make out the full picture 

and lost in caricature and false pretenses 

delayed in fires and broken senses

You do not fear the guilt in shadow

and do not praise the gift of light

All is natural within your world

It is canvas 

It is paint

It can be bold 

It can be faint

But it is never held for hands to taint

Happy trees cover the canvas

They're happier when you add friends

A bush over here

And a stream cutting through

And a mountain range blocking the wind

Maybe we'll add a nice sunset

You're in charge of this all, don't you know

There are no mistakes

No, they're just happy accidents

So maybe we'll add in some snow

Now something appears to be missing

Let's add a nice tree over here...

A couple of shadows

Some leaves on these branches

And now we're all finished, oh dear!