The Art of PoemsBy: Danny Brill

Table Of ContentsArt Museum Poems

1. Contre Composition2. Piet Mountain

3. The Old Guitarist4. Le Corbusier

Narrative, Metaphoric and Contrete Poems

1. My Doorway Back Home (Narrative)2. Who You Are (Metaphoric)3. The Caterpillar (Concrete)

Creative Poems1. Sublime Lyrics Re-make Poem

2. The Scar Poem3. Apology Poem

Danny Brill

11/11/09

Contre-Composition

By: Theo Van Dosenburg

These are the tiles of my ground

They get darker each step I take,

They make no marks, nor no sound

They don’t drip the blood that I may make.

They are all the same

They surround me, bring me pain

Looking at the dull pattern,

The countless numbers will make me go insane

Death will come, right now it won’t matter.

They are all the same.

Danny Brill

11/11/09

Piet Mountain

By: Piet Mondrain

Crosses, lines and lonely blue

The color that sits out of line,

Isolation between lines of two

Blue is not theirs or mine.

For lonely blue is alone.

Pushed apart from the rest

The others push lonely blue away,

Is this choice foolish or is it best

For things to be this way.

For lonely blue is alone once again.

Danny Brill

11/11/09

The Old Guitarist

The Old Guitarist, grabs his wooden friend

Plays him in the darkness with his wrinkling hands,

Plucks brass strings that wobble and bend

In the old man’s house, or in his ancient homelands.

The Old Guitarists makes up a tune

With no inspiration or no audience,

From rise of the sun, to glowing of the moon,

Jumps out of his state of conscience.

The Old Guitarist plays in his black gown

While his friend plays in nothing but wood,

The music he creates makes his mind drown

Just as his friend makes it should.

Danny Brill

11/11/09

Le Corbusier

I sit in a chair, my mind is released

From the phycodelic acid trip

With its pull it takes and control it ceased

The tightness in its deathly grip.

It takes me within and swallows me whole.

It tells me a story of a dream

It takes me away from this place,

How strange, how real it seems

Feelings of paranoia, feelings of grace.

It takes me within and swallows me whole.

Danny Brill

Block A 4-5

11/06/09

“My Doorway Back Home” (Narrative Poem)

The man by day, beast by night

Comes home late every day

From fathers work, and beast’s home

He glares with distaste

From A barred cage with a broken lock,

It asks me whose heart I broke today

To drive my mother to cry again.

My father’s anger rose from head to toe

And steams out of his ears, with a face so red,

As red as the color of his bloodshot eyes

As my home transforms into a battlefield

And I carry a gun with no ammo and a dull blade.

On the gravel streets of night

Pulls the snow down so fast

As it bombards me head to toe.

I remember the withering plants

The dead crunching leaves below me

And the piercing silence of Winter

With the coldness of frozen air.

The beast is vanquished, my home is safe

As it’s cage is lock,

Forever holding peace.

Danny Brill

11/11/09

Metaphoric Poem

Who you are

Black like a perched raven

Claws down on the withering branches at night

Watching for movement from above the world

You lock-on your focus to snatch your enemy.

The slyness, like the creeping of shadows

Swift movements and silent flapping

The loud squack is your battle cry

As you dart down to the solid earth

With no fear of your death or suicide.

The perched raven sits alone

The death grip of your feet releases slowly

Holding onto that withering branch

Your tension is gone, the evil is free.

Confident like a free spirit

The raven steps into its first day light

You do not look for pray today

You fly freely into the sky

Your life doesn’t matter anymore

The sweet freedom at last.

Danny Brill

11/11/09

Concrete Poem

Confined, transformed, freedom, this is the lonely life of the little caterpillar. The little caterpillar, Trapped in its own solitude, cannot break free , but it must find it’s way out.

It will search

It’s way for

Food and

Water.

/ It shelters

For the unchanged/

(0) Body. The change is

Near and / / will/ come

Soon /for the patient/

/ Caterpillar that hangs

Upside-down/ from branches

And makes /the caterpillar

Transform/

Into

a

beautiful

freedom. The caterpillar sits

Patiently waiting for change As Change is ready

To come. The Caterpillar has waited so long,

A s it emerges from it’s trap, into

Free and Flies

Away.

Danny Brill

10/21/09

Santeria Lyrics By Sublime

I don't practice Santeria

I ain't got no crystal ball

Well I had a million dollars but I, I'd spend it all

If I could find that heina and that sancho that she'd found

Well I'd pop a cap in sancho and I'd slap her down

What I really wanna know (ah baby)

What I really wanna say, I can't define

Well it's love that I neeeeeed

My soul will have to wait till I get back

Find a heina of my own

Daddy's gonna love one and all

I feel the break, feel the break, feel the break

And I gotta live it out

Oh yeah un-huh

Well I swear that I, what I really wanna know (my baby)

What I really wanna say, I can't define

Got love! Make it go

My soul will have to...

What I really wanna say (ah baby)

What I really wanna say, is I've got mine

And I'll make it

Yes, I'm going up

Tell sanchito that if he knows what is good for him

He best go run and hide

Daddy's got a new .45

And I won't think twice

To stick that barrel straight down sancho's throat

Believe me when I say that I got something for his punk-ass

What I really wanna know (ah baby)

What I really wanna say, is there's just one way back

And I'll make it

My soul will have to wait

Rewrite:

What I really wanna know babe

What I wanna define

Love is all that i’ll save

My soul will have to wait some time

I feel the break, I feel the break, Oh yeah un-huh, its so

I know I’m gonna make a save Well I swear that I wanna know

Danny Brill

Scar Poem

On a normal summer day

Stood a boy who was eight,

He was pretty happy you would say

His life was going great.

He was playing on his bed

With a gift from his dad,

A giant stuffed bear that sat dead

That could comfort when he was sad.

He wrestled it like a star

He beat it to heck,

He fell from the bed far

And broke his little neck.

He couldn’t see muchEverything went black,Couldn’t feel or touchHis bloody red neck

Danny Brill

11/16/09

Apology Poem

My little Iguana,

I woke you up

From your little nap

When you laid on your branch

And I frightened you to death.

Now you

Are ever so

Tired and sleepy

And angry with me

And I laughed.

Please forgive me

It was sort of funny

How you jumped

And whipped your tail

From shock and fright.