Best Brushes Poems
The dog days of summer bring humid air,
that morphs into dewdrops, as the night cools.
And summer outfits aren't seen anywhere
now that the kids have returned to their schools;
abandoning their sandcastles and pools.
The leaves are slowly being drained of green,
changing colors as they prepare to die.
And cottages no longer need a screen;
for when the Fall sun sits low in the sky:
there's no mosquitoes, not even a fly.
Autumn paints the leaves with brushes of fire,
while moonbeams gild cerise edges in gold.
For Nature is an artist to admire:
with a palette that's both subtle and bold;
Her art is a masterpiece to behold.
Exhaling a breath of air, crisp and cool,
with a sweet, spicy scent that defines Fall;
Autumn pulls a thread from Memory's spool.
It is time for Jack Frost's first icy scrawl,
to welcome Winter in Her snow-white shawl.
Brisk breezes rattle bare branches and twigs,
while a forest of skeletons quivers.
A squirrel stashes nuts in holes it digs:
fearing the snow that Winter delivers;
for it's enough to give it the shivers.
Categories:
brushes, 10th grade, autumn, beautiful,
Form:
Quintain (English)
Still life. What bite have my grapes and plums?
I capture the glaucous coating — the powdery residue.
A fairytale gown needs just the right godmother-dusting of azure.
The sparkling suds and frothy thrust! The concoction of a great day
— my brush reveals teal and Caribbean waves.
I long to drip my palette into deadpan eyes.
Her passion invigorating a sensual stimulation.
Without God’s transcendent palette,
the chameleon must wear zaffre.
I muse…
7/12/2018
Cozart’s Brevity in Blue Poetry Contest
74 words according to PS syllable counter
Categories:
brushes, art,
Form:
Free verse
our
words freeze
on a page-
a moment of
time
A tribute to all imagist poets (especially here on PS)
Categories:
brushes, on writing and words
Form:
Lanterne
Previous training
Had me mopping
Croutons in the foreground.
I'd always been
Under or back
And loaded with brushes.
Now my "project-defined"
Had purposely left
My "effects-bank"
With no filename.
Since I to
Had nine options
I selected them all.
It gave me the jiffies
In no time at all.
The series selected
Underscored what was
A housed initial setup.
Mirroring errors
Raised my buttons.
So I reverted for
Your convenience
To edit mode
And performed timed
And highlighted
Entries of change.
Categories:
brushes, angst, devotion, romance,
Form:
Verse
housewife brushes teeth
after busy day, black specks ....
vine ripe blueberries?
My husband brought in blueberries for me to wash and prepare for him to put in the freezer. I ate some as I was working, when I brushed my teeth getting ready for bed, I saw what I thought was black stuff in the sink. I was trying to figure out what in the world..You know the rest of the story.
Categories:
brushes, wife,
Form:
Senryu
Sharp ivory brushes my torso
Pain, but pleasure’s persistent
A flash of boredom that coinsides
With
Saliva and other
Suspitions.
Answers lay just beyond
Splashes of color and
Juxtaposed likenesses
My squealing snout hides me
And my pink flesh exposes
But covered with fiery illusion
From days in a ring of fire
My voice illudes as inconceivable
As it is
I illogically continue
Desbite negative notions
Thrashing in dark waters
A serpent lies in wait
Biding time, to set me straight
Categories:
brushes, dedication
Form:
Personification
Quote By Poet "One can paint with paints. One can paint with words."
Oh, to open a fresh can of paint,
can you smell the color?
A bright sunny yellow paint fills this can,
my brush will bring in the sunlight.
Today, I will paint with words,
red for the new fall apples.
They are juicy and sweet,
ready to be baked into a pie.
Categories:
brushes, color, fruit, poetry, red,
Form:
Imagism
wind brushes feathers
blending air and sky as one
yellow and green, blue
(February 4, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
Categories:
brushes, introspection, life, nature
Form:
Haiku
Masterpiece
Paint me a picture.
Add some red, blues and greens.
Show me the "me" that you wish to be.
Will I be contained or will I be free?
Add your brush strokes. One by one and we'll see.
What will you use? Which paints fit me best?
Perhaps acrylics will past the test.
Gather the materials for what's in store.
A new form of art is what we'll explore.
Take your blues and your greens too, just so it's rightfully you.
Mix your colors on the canvas.
Your new colors now consume us.
Cover me in yellows and colors of bright.
Not a spot will be left white.
Not a drop of paint goes unused.
Make sure you add some more hues.
Paint me a picture like never before.
Place me on your mantle for you to adore.
Hopeful and happy that you had the chance
To take out your brushes and allowed them to dance.
Categories:
brushes, analogy, appreciation, art, creation,
Form:
Rhyme
The hour grows late, as hours grow late,
They crawl like a thief in the night;
With devilish art to administrate,
Diminishing sight and purloining the light.
Blood, sweat and toil, hot water and oil,
Fever dispensed with a flair;
Fervour and temperature brought to the boil,
A fanatical prayer of both joy and despair.
Flourish and sweep, made cutting and deep,
Brush wielded high like a sword;
Canvas awakened from moribund sleep
With driven accord and the power of the Lord.
Constructing the scene, colours wild yet serene,
Paint splashed incandescent and clear;
Memorial collisions of all that has been,
New dreams to appear, digest and revere.
The hour grows late, as hours grow late,
Dawn hides a lifetime away;
Candid creations of brushes with fate
Are burning to stay for the seizing of day.
Categories:
brushes, allegory, art, life, prayer,
Form:
Verse
I want to paint a portrait of you
I have a brush, but what do I do?
What is the colour of your soul?
Is it really as black as coal
Horse hairs paint your insides out
Your heart is what you’re all about
I see it yellow, red, pink and blue
It’s the warmest part I ever knew
Your eyes are deep velvet brown
You’re wrapped in a devil’s gown
Your hair shapes an angelic face
Your body arches with elegant grace
I discard the brush onto the floor
Out of paint, I don’t need more
Because here you are next to me.
Brushes and paint fleshed reality
David Cox 13/09/23
Categories:
brushes, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
Dawn’s xanthous blooming through the forest trees.
Bouquet from God’s hand suddenly immersed in light.
Flaming pine without a flicker, matchless crimson seize.
Skinny oaks like a garden gate, applauds pleasing sight.
O blaze of origin -
Sun’s ancient grin.
That was art and then the brush of current events -
First snow! Ah, my trees with crystal light not senseless rain.
Pavement filled in, tires leave their treads with my consent.
I throw on coat and boots! Twirl around outdoors, this child insane!
Flurries fallen footprints -
God’s gift of lighthearted chintz.
2/8/2020
Categories:
brushes, art, change, february, flower,
Form:
Rhyme
smoke signal of clouds
asking God to stop the rain —
paint cans sealed near gate
1/17/2019
Categories:
brushes, rain,
Form:
Senryu
Ancient painted woodland rushes,
nature's beauty, painted thrushes,
homeland under vivid bushes,
lovely Indian Paintbrushes.
Deepest, dearest, darkest red,
scented, softly in my head.
velvet stem and softest leaf
colored beyond all belief.
Tickling that which it touches,
sentry keeping guarded watch as
danger passes, gentle swatches
of all time and breath she catches
Yellow cousin, next of kin,
palest fragrance, fair of skin.
Summer scented sweetest two
living, light-filled gift to you.
Categories:
brushes, appreciation, beauty, flower,
Form:
Rhyme
Where did my paint brushes go? Asked the mole.
I will help you look said the crescent moon, once so whole.
I see them but I am keeping it a secret said McPink.
He liked seeing the boot way up high, on the sink.
Why would I have used the boot? The artist said with surprise.
Did not realize it was his wife who put them there while making pies.
They can stay there, his wife said “then they are not plugging up the sink.”
Good idea said the fifties refrigerator, aptly named Mr. McPink.
Categories:
brushes, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form:
Rhyme