Best Penciled Poems

Flings and wings and rings rejected…
 Cupid’s arrows fly deflected…
“It clearly is too late” she signed, “to love, adore or pay me mind”

Penciled lines drew cruel conclusions
mocking mirror’s cracked illusions…
Sometimes, in time, I hang awhile, reflected in her parting smile

Drifting wan, below unheeding
worried, wounded suns...

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Rushing through each day, as if I had not a care,
head long toward the sun screaming, "catch me if you dare."
Dripping drabs of liquid sunshine burn my deft eye.

While seeking answers to the question, why, why! Why?
Into the sun I run, my skin so hot...

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Come closer, just a little closer
break down the barriers and rise 
over the blindness where one can see
your bits of beauty silently eluding me

Shade the penciled lines highlighting hues
of black and white with rainbow eyes
a kaleidoscope decorating nature's view 
savoring every ounce of innocence true

Let...

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As a spent-sun sets
ebony shadows
merge with silhouettes;
penciled in the rough
by a charcoal dusk.


A chilled, brisk breeze
makes me shudder;
for I feel its
breath on my face.

A loan wolf
and cricket
haunt the night;

and the
air smells

sweet!...

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For Sotto Poet's  E  Words Contest
17 June 24

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"Enthusiasm is nothing more or less than faith in action" -- Henry Chester

I cling to reveries of youth, the tender sentiment of plucking words from summer roots,
That in my journal hours when the red
of skies are...

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TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE

I’m giving up, can’t take no more, I’ve reached the final straw,
How do you find a flamin’ job when you’ve turned fifty-four,
I’ve knocked on nigh a thousand doors and trudged a million miles,
To find me name pushed into draws, in the...

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You are a mild hesitation, generating bold question.
In your bed, under cover, you become a distracted lover.
In your heart of emotion, say -- am I your slightest notion?
A simple walk with you endangers my penciled, perfect view.

With fists, I attempt holding all that uncertainty flies
before...

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Once I dared render
A trapping of quintessence
To hold fast all that is you
Somewhere upon my canvas

To capture your beauty
In pastels of feigned adoration 
From charcoaled scratched eyes
Slowly her face takes form

Searching yesterdays colours
To recapture the essence of your voice 
Now merely a passionate facsimile
Obtusely rendered...

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My mind a project of hesitation;
 draw an oval maze of meditation.
Enter penciled lines, make them squiggly,	
  then paint it yellow for Mr. Wigley.

Squeeze a few lemons for it’s sometimes sour,
  then let it dry for half an hour.
Stick here and there some...

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O beloved chevalier, 
cloaked in shimmering champagne armor,
tonight I long to feel your sultry skin,
embroidered with emerald embellishments 
and twinkling teal topaz, 
tailored to tempt,
veiling these tanned desires.

My soul sways to a chained string 
of softened serenades,
where the definitions 
of this drawn devotion
dance amidst dusted...

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Got my brand-new calendar;
It’s filled with empty squares.
With entries made, there’s not a chance
I’ll be caught unawares.

I mark down all important dates
So I can send a card.
When penciled in, in black and white,
It’s really not that hard.

Appointments, too, are written
So there’s no way I’ll forget;
And...

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One or two of us
Were home on leave;
For the rest of us,
Christmas came by mail.

Our callsign: Gunslingers.
Our Military Transition Team
Was embedded with 
The "Triple Deuce" Iraqi Infantry,

For a year our home
Was LSA Diamondback
Mosul, Nineveh province,
In northern Iraq

A Team member's wife
Gave us all Santa hats.
I have...

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I  set sight on visions 
Picture little if visions
Matter ,i paint a photo 
To vision my pictures
My vision has lost it way to my tongue
I speak what I see,visualise or better yet picture
My vision set scenes like am Picasso
As I speak out my words in...

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Before it’s too late

Distant bells clatter on cloud fed weathered skies where
darkness creeps past low light vestibules, faded beams flicker 
Short skirts wave in a winter wind, breezy attributes
revealing fishnet thighs calling to the next hidden passenger,
batting lashes and blowing bubbles of stale gum placed...

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I was young when I realized my mom was different,
Different from me at least, for sometimes 
She would draw or paint and miracles would happen.
Her penciled or charcoaled strokes on paper projecting life
Into two dimensions, though color, of course, was absent,
Like God, a multi-dimensional entity,...

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