Best Scribbles Poems
[Verse 1]
I’ve got scribbles on my mind
Whispers dancing out of time
Random echoes on the breeze
You and blue, it’s poetry
A penny buys a mystery
A kiss might solve the rest
Can sapphire come from two
Or just from hearts undressed?
[Pre-Chorus]
Raindrops like fingers fall
You flush, I feel it all
Silky shadows rush and spin
Should I dare to step in?
[Chorus]
What if it’s me, you’re waking to
In morning mist and candy hues
That carousel where dreamers flee
Everything’s not what it seems
Your hand is free, you start to see
What if it’s love… what if it’s me?
[Verse 2]
Clothed in evergreen delight
Deeper than the eye finds light
You breathe a beauty, wild and true
And love just pours from you
The clown once said “depart”
But every end’s a brand new start
A glance, a spark, a chance to be
The one who sets you free
[Pre-Chorus]
Poems don’t always rhyme
But chaos reads just fine
They say love’s never late
So here I am to wait
[Chorus]
What if it’s me, you’re waking to
In morning mist and candy hues
That carousel where dreamers flee
Everything’s not what it seems
Your hand is free, you start to see
What if it’s love… what if it’s me?
[Bridge]
I insist, don’t miss this twist
The truth hides in a kiss
No need to second-guess the art
Of two unfinished hearts
[Final Chorus]
What if it’s me, just take the leap
In dreams we planted, growing deep
That carousel, a mystery
But now you know what it could be
If you believe…
What if it’s love, what if it’s me?
I write upon mountains from whence I view the sea
soothed by the rhythmic motion of the tide
my muse goes into overdrive
Soon my pretty notebook
is bursting with simple scribbles and rambling lines
as I watch a heron stalking its prey
I’ve a picnic to eat as I go on my way
and I’ll sketch vivid purple columbines,
then re read the scrawled notes I took
in my notebook archive
Initial thoughts are edited and modified
guess I’m striving for perfection you see
Nature’s beauty inspires me to pen poetry
and I love strolling in the countryside
I'll watch kingfishers as they dive
into a babbling brook,
cool water glistening as the golden sun shines;
outdoors in the fresh air I long to stay
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My Invented Form - I Write Upon Poetry Contest
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01/30/21
Scribbles
Just scribbles
In my mind
Roaming
Dancing
Prancing
Romancing
Waiting to be let loose
For you to approve
Take the key and open me
Open my mind and see what’s inside
Wishing
Hoping
Scoping for the real meaning
Of my scribbles
Valentine's Day recalls smirks and giggles
when Cupid's arrow struck lovers in love.
And store-bought cards filled with sweetheart scribbles
bordered by hearts and cherubs from above.
In my youth, we'd all decorate a box,
with a slot cut in the top of each lid.
And sealed tight with imaginative locks
that ensured all cards got discreetly hid.
Valentine's Day heralded the start of spring
but as winter wanes, anxieties climb.
And thinking thoughts that puberty can bring,
we would fantasize about love sublime.
Laughter's oft-heard sharing cards with a friend,
tacky tokens, painting love surreal.
And yet, we'd stare at them for hours on end
wishing those sentimental cards were real.
(Quatrain)
2/14/2015
Anacreontic Verse, for Edward Ebbs's Contest
Written January 16, 2016
I red of your blue
in strange yellow ink
While viewing your lips
a strange sad like pink
Your colouring book
of an adult sort
judged by a Jury's
unfounded report
Scribbles and squiggles
all over the page
defied my knowledge
of knowing your age
You could not colour
in intricate space
instead a rainbow
on hands and your face
You stared beyond me
with blank starving eyes
the whats and wherefores
none of them applies
Almost all the red
that mixes with your blue
are marks of sadness
he clawed into you
A colouring stick
with a silvered blade
each line sliced with skill
heart in hand displayed!
Some people say he scribbles when
they see that boy draw.
But once I took a closer look;
this is what I saw.
I saw imagination in
every shape he drew.
Where loopy circles interlocked,
he had colored blue.
Stick figures walked across his page,
but at a second glance,
I noticed one or two of them
had done a little dance!
He’s very young to focus so,
and this you need to know.
Encourage him, for he might be
our very next *Van Gogh.
* Pronouncing Van Gogh's name the most common American way. I am used to it and it is easier to rhyme with something that way!
Written 11/14/2015 for Oil Paintings 1-2-3 any Poem form Contest of Eve Roper
My scribbles scrammbled on a tatty bit of paper
I vomit ideas
Before they vapour
They appear inedible mountains of mess
I churn and turn the illegible scribbles to words that truly bless
I am a dyslexic writer - Published Poem in Forgotten Letters
As The Note-Taking Girl scribbles
And absentmindedly quibbles
Her fingers are animated wriggles
Churning out eccentric squiggles:
Letters of Ever Clumsy Angles,
One like a creeper that tangles,
As many like threads in singles,
Wherefore her teacher openly wrangles
And after explosion stiffly dangles
Before her the option of A Street Hawker
Bearing a case with or without a locker
And around patrolling with jingles
Or she be whipped and a nearby ear tingles!
But that wasn’t The Rescue from a writing
That keeps a teacher’s eyes biting!
As deities undress
Sidesaddle the monk
Who’s utterly confused
To see atrocities wax
A sculpting bulldozing
Branding a blueprint
Spewed unto man
Irrigating sewage
Leaking in shoes
Stomping out dogma
In spangled shawls
Confetti balloons fall
As subjectivity subjects
Each a unique nook
To harbor opinions
Cultivating folly trees
Aiding sleeps process
As conclusions draw
Brisk as a piece
Fired on whiteboards
Washing whitewaters
Drifting down to the next
Who believe they know
The universe's edge
Erotic as an ape —Karl Shapiro
I am not an ape
I am simply a ghost
I am not erotic
I am simply a ghost
Once I kissed Meenie
I love Meenie Okay
But I am not erotic
I am simply a ghost
-Sullivano
Assailed and held prisoner in my bedroom, I fret
Wondering why mad blood seized my head
Inserting an undue threat
Concealed in the seal of the thread
Running through a bevy of thoughts
Silly at best, folly at worst
Waltzing in my bliss boats in tail coats
As thoughts tumble and fumble at first
Interrogating motives
Banging my head against wintry walls
In ludicrous locomotives
That sprinkle flowers from the cantakerous calls
Whose ringtones break the silence
In the mind in turmoil over expired oil
Flowing and rowing with persistence
In tandem with foot soldiers who toil
To smuggle my remains from the siege
In which flak flies North, East and West
Aiming to smother the last reputation privilege
To which I cling as best as I can in a test
Where frayed nerves hardly endure
As crumbling knock knees plead
For Archangel Michael to ensure
I supplant the wanton weed
That nailed my proclivities into the conundrum
I confront face to face
To the beat of a drowsy drum
Whose cadence faints in the distance with a tame trace
To awaken the conscience in my forsaken shell
Lost in a tangle of spangles
Striving to dispatch my soul to a sinner’s cell
When Jesus dangles triumph triangles
Dragging my spent soul from the pit of despair
In which I couldn’t by my bootstraps
Pull myself to repair the glare and flare
Almost extinguished in wraps
Silken in appearance, earthen in substance
Woven to imperfection as gates of hope snap open
A twenty one gun salute roars to announce
My redemption to the dribble and scribble of an indelible pen.
CJ scrawls out
his initials
saying in black ink
this is his turf.
I dare not step
on the 4-letter word
engraved in stone
lest it ruin my day.
Some sweet child of God
writes, "GOD IS GOOD"
all over the park
in pink chalk.
Lovers carve
their lettered kisses
into hearts
set in stone
that make me smile;
love is such
a happy thing!
The dog left
thankfully only
footprints.
Mother Nature
dropped some leaves
to imprint themselves
upon the walk.
I haven't left my mark
yet
maybe I will tomorrow.
SKB
http://www.myspace.com/sheila_kathryn_barrera
I was gonna
write a poem
To give thanks
and praise you Lord,
Soon to learn
my rhymes were crippled
With no power
were my words,
So I beg you;
heal my weakness!
Take the darkness
From my soul,
Asking patience
And forgiveness
‘cause you know-
I’ll scribble more!
Dry eyes open at counter gambling a quarter at a time, looking up to see beauty out of corner smiling. She says hi, iced up stunned could fathom flight. Sigh slightly, love little known ‘bout her yet inquire as intriguing be. Just nearby cause heartbeat skip three steps, lightheaded. Dream pleasant, perhaps but such, inch forward though slow. Direction key.
~~~~~~~~
Consciousness is relative. What is wake and not irrelevant as mere gravel in crowned game tossed under bus rapidly to slow procession, carriage tips, queen collapses. Another wretched grasp on situation uncomfortable, scribble endlessly to soothe witness tragedy that is existence.
~~~~~~
Fortified in villainous parody drought sought touch send shiver nail through skin. Perched tremblin’ yet gather oxygen balance news prior thought white-dressed canopy temptress. Hold drink, allow consume dreamt of while driving slid far beyond guardrails. Her disturb each moment welcome such distraction, will cease casually. Unsure, still peace though as whisper ease hesitation, destination unknown, comforting assumption.
I still dream of you as though it was only yesterday
As if I listen closely enough I might just hear the sounds of our laughter
I remember the love we once had for each other
but can not remember where we lost it