I have been working on a draft introduction to the collection of the up and coming ebook entitled Paintings and Poetry by Zubyre Parvez. Thank you for purchasing Paintings and Poetry. This project came out of an afternoon trip to the National Gallery in London. Paintings are poetry, and poetry is painting. Therefore, in comprehending… Read More Introduction to Paintings and Poetry Ebook
Kindling a fire starts with twigs In the forest of the campfire lit Mirrored in the lake of the sky The sun fires through the clouds © Zubyre Parvez 2017 All Rights Reserved If you enjoyed this post, please share with colleagues, friends and family.
The stained glass window Is a tapestry of this life The figures are made up Of lines vertical, horizontal There is truth in her eyes They are good Christians If they belong to the same School as I do belong to. © Zubyre Parvez 2017 All Rights Reserved If you enjoyed this post, please share… Read More Week Twenty-Three: Paintings and Poetry No.23: The Sewing School by Constant Mayer
He adds his finesse to the piece She plays her sensuous melody Knuckling in on a good song Boisterous she looks back at him At her lover who now laughs A manly laugh his teeth show Their whole hearts in line with The sweet songs that are cued © Zubyre Parvez 2017 All Rights Reserved… Read More Week Twenty-Two: Paintings and Poetry No.22: Donna Venusta by Hans Von Aachen (1580-1585)
The hijab of the Asian woman The artist cross legged European All in tandem in this pack of Characters, she keeps her cards Played closely to her chest The veil of this diverse world Of intrigues and vanity fair Of introverts and extroverts. © Zubyre Parvez 2017 All Rights Reserved If you enjoyed this post,… Read More Week Twenty-One: Paintings and Poetry No.21: Cardsharps and Fortune Teller by Nicolas Regnier (1620-1622)
Timid, shoulders hunched Into the frame the mirror Slanted reflections of the Doppleganger shade corner
Cultivating the garden The garden grows great Out of this world it Reaches to the heavens The roots are not soil It’s in angel hands His paradise is golden His halo the other side.
The slit in his clothing Underneath is all man All muscle, no kidding. His feather is soft pink He raises his glass as He raises his profile To reveal the feminine In his soul, in himself.