Writingpoetry

[ Join Free! ]
(No Spam mail)

dotsdots
nav
  • RolePlay
  • Join Us
  • Writings
  • Shoutbox
  • Community
  • Digg Mashup
  • Mp3 Search
  • Online Education
  • My Youtube
  • Ear Training
  • Funny Pics
  • nav



    nav
  • Role Play
  • Piano Music
  • Free Videos
  • Web 2.0
  • nav



    << | >>
    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Disarray dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: JanePlane
    ASL Info:    125/F/everyplane
    Elite Ratio:    6.76 - 415/433/130
    Words: 111
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 665
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 745



    Description:
       Edvard Munch's pastel version of "The Scream" sold for $119.9 million on my youngest son's 12th Birthday 5/2. Oddly, Munch's birthday is the same as mine: 12/12.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsDisarray dots
    -------------------------------------------


    Edvard Munch
    and I
    share the same birthday

    on the blue black
    fjord

    He said the sky became bloody red

    still dead
    tired
    trembling with fright

    He felt a great surge
    in nature:

    “I felt a touch of
    melancholy” he said,
    “my friends walked on.
    I stayed behind
    trembling with fright”

    He created The Scream
    but he also painted lovers
    entwined

    he blamed babies for the end of love
    and for jealousy

    I blame him.
    I blame him for not seeing that
    The Scream
    is inside

    you can't paint it out




    Submitted on 2012-05-20 23:40:01     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      but you can't blame the poor dude for trying.

    Honestly I think that we can't "paint" these "screams" out.
    But we can still use them to create art, until the scream goes away on its own.

    Interesting concept, Jane.
    | Posted on 2012-05-24 00:00:00 | by OneDarkFlame92 | [ Reply to This ]
      Whether making a painting or a poem, it's original expression is either something directly from the subconscious "inside", some outside inspiration that moves the inside, or simply a muse directed automation which even the artist/poet may not fully understand. Anyway, it's got to get inside one way or another before it can get out. $120 Mil. is some major expression. That painting would be me saying, "The tax man is taking HOW MUCH?".
    | Posted on 2012-05-22 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ]
      the Scream is INSIDE...and it needs to get out.

    we carry too many screams around with us...that is why we have heart attacks, nervous breakdowns etc. etc. etc.

    craziness abounds...

    babies do create jealousy..but it isn't their fault...we are often just too selfish...if we have children we need to give up for them and to them.

    great poem, Jane.

    really good analysis of the artist and his work. you really captured something immense here.

    jacob
    | Posted on 2012-05-21 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]
      I'm afraid Munch is the only chaos in his colorful world of precise lines and geometry (which suggests that we are the core of our own madness as well as the key to our own sanity).

    And isn't it fascinating that calm exists everywhere except the eye of the hurricane?

    Just my thoughts on your thoughts on Munch's thoughts.
    | Posted on 2012-05-21 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ]
      I hate to be reticent sometimes but when I consider the sooth of our population on earth, and how many are bad, I could have a hysterical delirium. Is that what you mean by the scream is inside?

    Bruce
    | Posted on 2012-05-21 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ]


    Think Feedback more than Compliments :: [ Guidelines ]

    1. Be honest.
    2. Try not to give only compliments.
    3. How did it make you feel?
    4. Why did it make you feel that way?
    5. Which parts?
    6. What distracted from the piece?
    7. What was unclear?
    8. What does it remind you of?
    9. How could it be improved?
    10. What would you have done differently?
    11. What was your interpretation of it?
    12. Does it feel original?



    195177

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

    Florida's Autumn Solstice written by closetpoet
    prison written by ShyOne
    I, Plutarch written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Lost Inside the Race written by ForgottenGraves
    Supernatural Cowboy Sleuth (4) written by endlessgame23
    Shi written by ShyOne
    Supernatural Cowboy Sleuth (5) written by endlessgame23
    Supernatural Cowboy Sleuth (1) written by endlessgame23
    Shut Up written by annie0888
    Redemption written by poetotoe
    Delicious Stews written by elephantasia
    Comme un lion en avril written by Outlaw
    When Sirens Whisper written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Relativity written by poetotoe
    mimicry written by expiring_touch
    The Old Mill written by Wolfwatching
    My Four Seasons written by faideddarkness
    phantom limbs written by expiring_touch
    Tartarus written by endlessgame23
    untitled written by ShyOne
    Physician, Heal Thyself written by WriteSomething
    (Untitled Song) written by TeslaKoyal
    Journey written by endlessgame23
    Angel Eyes written by poetotoe
    to Be like written by KeeperOfLight
    Supernatural Cowboy Sleuth (2) written by endlessgame23
    To the Artist written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Reliquary of Writ written by HisNameIsNoMore
    To the Devil and Candle written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Love written by saartha

    Google
     


    poetry

    dotsLogindots

    User Name:

    Password:

    [ Quick Signup ]
    [ Lost Password ]


    January 10 07
    131,497 Poems
    Posted

    I have 14,000+ Subscribers on Youtube. See my Video Tutorials

    [ Angst Poetry ]
    [ Cutters ]
    [ Famous Poetry ]
    [ Poetry Scams ]



    FontSize:
    [ Smaller ] [ Bigger ]
     Poetry