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                                                   "THE ARTIST WALL "

____________~~~ "THE ~ ARTIST'S ~ WALL" ~~~____________

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HI !  THIS IS THE PLACE FOR ALL ARTIST!  TO COME AND POST THEIR WORKS! POETRY! PAITINGS! 
PHOTOGRAHY! SINGER'S! RAPPERS! DANCER'S! FILM STUDENTS! 
 EVERY1 THAT IS POSITIVE AN OF THE ARTS!!!! 
"""YOU ARE MORE THAN WELCOME""" 
TO SHOWCASE YOUR TALENTS! THERE IS SPOTS ON HERE FOR ALL OF YOU TO UPLOAD! PASTE!
 AND JUST TO COME BE SURROUNDED WITH EVERYTHING OF THE "ARTS" . 
PLEASE BE APART OF THIS! AN POST! POST! POST! AN USE MY BLOG AS A  CHATROOM IF YOU LIKE! 

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NO MATTER WHAT ANY1 SAY! "GO WITH YOUR GUT "
 HI! ARE YOU AN RAPPER OR SINGER?AND WANT TO PUT YOUR MUSIC OUT THERE!
TO GET MORE EXPOSURE? THEN PLEASE UPLOAD YOUR  MUSIC CONTENT RIGHT HERE!
WE WANT ALL ARTIST TO FEEL FREE TO GET EXPOSURE ON OUR "ARTIST WALL" THIS IS YOUR'S ALL FOR YOU!
ANY AN EVERY ONE IN THE ARTS! I LOVE FOR PEOPLE TO DARE TO DREAM! AND THEN TO TRY!
I THINK ALL OF YOU ARE THE BEST!!! SO FEEL FREE TO SHOW THE WORLD!
AND HELP OUR COMMUNITY GROW! AN GAIN MORE EXPOSURE ALSO! WE CAN GROW TOGETHER! 
SO COME ON NOW!!!! AND POST! POST! POST!
 HI ALL OF MY FELLOW SPOKEN WORD ARTIST! PLEASE SHINE YOUR BEAUTIFUL LIGHT ON US!!
WE WANT TO HEAR YOU! UPLOAD A PERFORMANCE OR A WRITTEN WORK FROM YOU!
I LOVE POETRY! AN POWERFUL THOUGHT PROVOKING PERFORMANCES! IT'S BEAUTIFUL!
SO LET US SEE OR HEAR YOUR "BEAUTY"!
THANKS " Serena " 
      " INAUGURATION POEM "
     A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since departed,Marked the mastodon.The dinosaur, who left dry tokens Of their sojourn here On our planet floor,Any broad alarm of their hastening doom Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages. But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
     Come, you may stand upon my Back and face your distant destiny, But seek no haven in my shadow.I will give you no more hiding place down here.You, created only a little lower than The angels, have crouched too long in The bruising darkness,Have lain too long Face down in ignorance.Your mouths spilling words Armed for slaughter.The Rock cries out today, you may stand on me,But do not hide your face.Across the wall of the world,A River sings a beautiful song,Come rest here by my side.Each of you a bordered country,Delicate and strangely made proud,Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.Your armed struggles for profit Have left collars of waste upon My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.Yet, today I call you to my riverside,If you will study war no more. Come,Clad in peace and I will sing the songs The Creator gave to me when I and the Tree and the stone were one.Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your Brow and when you yet knew you still Knew nothing.The River sings and sings on.There is a true yearning to respond to The singing River and the wise Rock.So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew The African and Native American, the Sioux,
    The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
    The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.They hear. They all hear The speaking of the Tree.Today, the first and last of every Tree
    Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the River.Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.Each of you, descendant of some passed
    On traveller, has been paid for.You, who gave me my first name, you Pawnee, Apache and Seneca, you Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
    Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of Other seekers--desperate for gain,Starving for gold.You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot ...You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare Praying for a dream.Here, root yourselves beside me.I am the Tree planted by the River,Which will not be moved. I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree I am yours--your Passages have been paid.Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need For this bright morning dawning for you.History, despite its wrenching pain,Cannot be unlived, and if faced With courage, need not be lived again.Lift up your eyes upon The day breaking for you.Give birth again To the dream.Women, children, men,Take it into the palms of your hands.Mold it into the shape of your most Private need. Sculpt it into The image of your most public self.Lift up your hearts Each new hour holds new chances For new beginnings.Do not be wedded forever To fear, yoked eternally To brutishness.The horizon leans forward,Offering you space to place new steps of change.Here, on the pulse of this fine day You may have the courage To look up and out upon me, the Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.No less to Midas than the mendicant.No less to you now than the mastodon then.Here on the pulse of this new day You may have the grace to look up and out And into your sister's eyes, into Your brother's face, your country And say simply Very simplyWith hope
    Good morning.


    AUTHOR: MAYA ANGELOU








            "POETRY SUBMISSIONS" 

    HI! UPLOAD YOUR DOCUMENTS  HERE! ALL AN EVERYTHING OF THE ARTS ARE WELCOMED HERE!!! 
SO PLEASE BE APART OF THIS AN LET'S MAKE THIS WORLD! SOUND AN LOOK BEAUTIFUL!
AND I CAN DO IT WITH OUT YOU! BRING AN SHOW! YOUR TALENT!!!! TALENT ! TALENT! TALENT!!!
   "ODE TO JOY"
 Wild and fearful in his cavern
Hid the naked troglodyte,
And the homeless nomad wandered
Laying waste the fertile plain.
Menacing with spear and arrow
In the woods the hunter strayed ...
Woe to all poor wreteches stranded 
On those cruel and hostile shores!From the peak of high Olympus
Came the mother Ceres down,
Seeeking in those savage regions
Her lost daughter Prosperine.
But the Goddess found no refuge,
Found no kindly welcome there,
And no temple bearing witness
To the worship of the gods.

From the fields and from the vineyards
Came no fruit to deck the feasts,
Only flesh of blood-stained victims
Smouldered on the alter-fires,
And where'er the grieving goddess
Turns her melancholy gaze,
Sunk in vilest degradation
Man his loathsomeness displays.

Would he purge his soul from vileness
And attain to light and worth,
He must turn and cling forever
To his ancient Mother Earth.

Joy everlasting fostereth
The soul of all creation,
It is her secret ferment fires
The cup of life with flame.
'Tis at her beck the grass hath turned
Each blade toward the light


and solar systems have evolved 
From chaos and dark night,
Filling the realms of boundless space
Beyond the sage's sight.

At bounteous nature's kindly breast,
All things that breath drink Joy,
And bird and beasts and creaping things
All follow where she leads.
Her gifts to man are friends in need,
The wreath, the foaming must,
To angels -- visions of God's throne,
To insects -- sensual lust.


 AUTHOR: UNKOWN