All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
I Feel the Inspiration Overtaking My Soul
There is somthing we call art.
It exists everywhere we look.
Such a variety in the world-not one the same.
All original-never having the same name.
Our definitions are never alike,
Because your medium is different from mine.
There is a feeling i know-called inspiration.
It flows through me freely, causing much appreciation.
I cant even begin to explain the joy flowing through me when:
I look at my painting and its completely unique,
When the words in my poem rhyme perfectly,
Or when the notes i play and sing are right on key.
.....
I pick up a paintbrush, run my fingers through the top.
I dip it in paint then let it dance across the canvas-feels like time stops.
The colors blend perfectly.
I take a step back and look at my painting,
And it tells a story.
What i hope to have done is to put a little peice of me
On this canvas
And look what it has become.
I feel the inspiration overtaking my soul.
I place my hands on these very familiar keys.
Everytime i hope a little peice of me shines as i play.
I take a deep breat, clear my mind, and start to sing.
I am who I am, nothing but me.
My hands skip gracefully here and there,
As my voive freely travels without a care.
When i play and sing my mind just floats.
Music is what i call and edles combination of lyrics and notes.
I feel the inspiration overtaking my soul.
I pick up a pen and paper with a mind full of ideas and thoughts.
Once the ink starts flowing, i cant make it stop.
My memories, dreams, and hopes are now for the world to see,
Each poem containing a little part of me.
My cloudy mind takes over-i surrender to the paper,
And let the words write themselves.
When i read back over a poem ive written,
The words need to flow together, to be remembered, never forgotten.
I feel the inspiration overtaking my soul.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.