Ben Heine Art and Music Blog: femme

Showing posts with label femme. Show all posts

Tender Flower
of Mankind
.

Oh Love

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

Oh love is so sweetly during,
Each honey flower bud
Like spring in the morning
That has its seeds florid
To bring in freshly fragrance
Like feelings in to the day
Of the instant abundance
That comes in its fair play

Oh love of every devotee
That is revived like spring
When blossoms come to be
Like heart in love to sing
When new daybreak is in light
To give its clearest vision
For a day to come in bright
With all its shade precision

Oh love that arrives and grows
With verve touches to give
That never again goes
If it's with roots that live
Like carnations in posy
Of pinkish whitish and red
The days of sweet love rosy
Not to go pale in spring's bed

Mother Africa
.

Strong Hands of
Mother Africa
.
By J. Joy Matthews Alford

Strong hands of Mother Africa
Awaken places deep inside me
Where my ancestors dwell
Like distant echoes, your heart-beat
Reverberates off Kilimanjaro’s mountain-tops
Pulses down the Nile
Crosses the Sudan
And flows into my soul

Strong hands of Mother Africa
Call my absent spirit
To return and commune with the elders
Those who sojourned before me
Now light my path and
Await my homecoming

Strong hands of Mother Africa
Reveal to me my history
Teach me the ways of my true homeland;
Unmask the mysteries and tragedies
Of this altered consciousness
Awaken in my mind and body
The un-ripened seeds of truth,
Power, and pride
Solve for me the paradox of my mortality.

Strong hands of Mother Africa
My soul dances to your ancient rhythm
Pulsing, ever pulsing, through the veins of time
Teach me to beat Africa drums
So that I, too, may guide
Another absent spirit to your shores
So that I, too may guide another absent spirit
Home!

(The poem appeared on : authorsden.com)

P I C A S S O
.

.
Picasso
.
By E.E. Cummings

Picasso
you give us Things
which bulge:
grunting lungs pumped full of sharp thick mind

you make us shrill
presents always
shut in the sumptuous screech of
simplicity

(out of the
black unbunged
Something gushes vaguely a squeak of planes
or

between squeals of
Nothing grabbed with circular shrieking tightness
solid screams whisper.)
Lumberman of The Distinct

your brain's
axe only chops hugest inherent
Trees of Ego, from
whose living and biggest

bodies lopped
of every
prettiness

you hew form truly

(The poem appeared on americanpoems.com)

Man in a Woman Costume
.

.
God, Man and Woman
.
By Firoze Shakir
.
In the cradle like womb

lies birthright of a

baby...

the father of man

in full bloom...

humble beginnings

live let live

go back

as food

for worm like thoughts

in an unmarked tomb.

God the Dress maker

Man in a Woman’s Costume.

Woman undressed

Mans Everlasting Doom.

Dark shadows on his

Ancestral awakening loom

A dead corpse to exhume

The world a mortuary

A tenanted room

(Poem's source : firozeshakir.blogspot.com)
.
--------------
.
The poem and photo appeared on hubzay.deviantart.com

- Collapse On Your Palm -
.

.
Die In His Fingers

By Kristine Buenavista (*)

If I was made to be destroyed, I want to collapse
on your palms, only yours
for they are the gateway to a better world
more responsible politics
more beautiful view of the Arts.

If I graced the Earth to be frozen, I wish to be
the woman on your caricatures.
You can draw me without a face, without a name
but I yearn for you to think of me as
you push that pencil and create
a masterpiece.

You, you are the Philippine sea
carrier of storms and cradle of the vast
where I always stand on its shores

where I soak my toes on its cold sand
where I dream of reaching places

without drowning
without drifting

If there is a need for me to experience
both

By all means, I am willing
as long as it brings me

on your
toes.

-------------------

(*) Kristine Buenavista is a poetess living in the Philippines. She recently sent me this lovely poem and this is how I wanted to illustrate her verses. Thank you Kristine. I'm very honored. You're truly talented.

Filled With Fire
.

Freedom

By Daniel Hooks

We are free to be free
To make our own destiny
To shine like the sun
To become one
To hide under the moon
Under in the gloom
To run with the deer
To make worry disappear
To listen and to hear
To love and to fear
To make our minds be clear
To laugh and to cheer
To travel and to steer
In the path we have chosen
To be hot or cold or even frozen
We are free to be free
To make our own destiny
And to look back from the finish line
And to shout with joy and not to whine.

(The poem appeared on writeoutloud.net)