Don Yarber Don Yarber
Recommendations: 42

"Face of the World" is singular, so I think it should be but IT wasn't ready for such glory. It would not be ready for another hundred years.

Please login or signup to add a comment to this paragraph.


Add comment   Close
Allen Clarke Allen Clarke
Recommendations: 18

Starry, Starry Night, is all, that Vincent Was.


Share this writing


Link to this writing



Start Writing

More from Allen Clarke

Stay Awhile
Hodge-Podge of Nursery
The Legend of Little Tree
``I``
Down Through the Years

More Poetry

Deborah Boydston Deborah Boydston
Recommendations: 45
Murder in the Senseless
Leoni Carlson Leoni Carlson
Recommendations: 12
Expressivity
Aaron Greene Aaron Greene
Recommendations: 30
Author's Clog
Leonard a. Wronke Leonard a. Wronke
Recommendations: 23
JUST BECAUSE
Kitchera Hicks Kitchera Hicks
Recommendations: 11
soul mates

I`m a painter, a visual artist; and so I know the thing of which I write, at least, in this particular case. I know what it`like to watch the pot boil dry,desperately bereft ,of nourishing victuals. Been there, done that.


Vincent dipped his brush
onto the Face of the World
and,the Critics shrank back
because they weren`t ready
for such glory
no, they would not be
half ready
for another
hundred years 1 comment


He stopped by a Parisian
open air cafe
one mystical eve
and saw there
fiery yellow orbs
dancing across his
canvas mind


sketching feverishly
he would not
yes, could not
let the moment
escape History


making note of the hues
and tints
of his prefered palette
he rushed home and thus
began..his masterpiece
the blue of night
stark against the noise
of clinking cutlery
and wafting French pastry 1 comment


He felt he could eat the painting
that emerged
out of the secret vaults
of another sphere of Beauty
or, so, it seemed
until at long last
it was complete


Legend brags that he fell asleep
smearing his scruff of beard in pigments
wild with Turner yellow
and luminescent pthalo blue
shaking off the smell of turp
he slashed wildly
cut deeply the eyes of his most
hated critics


Three burning candles
perched on his hat of straw
led him out of darkness
to complete the eternally
sublime night time scene
Starry, starry night


Elusive fame
mocked him
whipped him
with hope unrealized
until Theo, blessed Theo
rescued his mio`
from waking,desolate
in pauper`s dream


At last, he found
his star renowned
which gleamed with love
in heavens above
starry, starry night
became his crowning glory
for all the world to see.


Link to this writing

Share this writing


Next: Letter to you...