Long Sketch pad Poems

The past scampers out of view. 
Like the paw prints of a cat running to the bush.
The wheel of time follows no straight line.
As we sometimes trace back over the lines.
In the recesses of our...

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i dreamt
i moved into a apartment
with an old brick wall
and its decaying face
the old light hanging from a thread
swings on the open breeze
from the window
time seems to slow down to a crawl
so i can see...

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In 1958 we saw the end of an era.
Mused the Curtiss Wright scholar.
he told a crowd of people
that an America that didn't
trust in the newness of creativity
would see a day were only exterior machines
would be...

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I am Charlie
Je suis Charlie


I laugh at myself
I laugh at the world
I mock you with love
I love to contemplate
I love for humanity to think
There are no limits to freedom of expression
As long as we have...

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Before bed,
she breaks each charcoal pencil tip to different lengths
and sketches a roving wonder drenched in grey
Ferns in spirals and curling such 
become a bloom of hair
to hide the eye, the knowing eye
which sees but...

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Golden dewdrop spread on gray window sill,
warm rays from the summer sunburst at will,
sprightly cheep from high flier mourning bird,
pulsating heart aroused by what I
heard

Gorgeous is an adjective for viewing,
colors on an august sketch pad...

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Darkness, shadows, raining, storming.

I liked to pretend I perfectly crafted these bleak, tired ideas.

When I was a stupid kid.

As if no one has ever drawn a picture in pencil, so that there is no color.

As...

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Once upon a time
there was a prince
his name was Aaron

most of all
he loved to draw
he’d get his ideas
from both day and 
and night dreams
as well as trips in nature

he’d look up at the sky
and see...

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Poetry is a sketch pad,
You can write what you feel or see,
You can pen about a single flower,
Or maybe about your pajamas that are comfy.

My sketch pad has a lone maple leaf today,
That floats in...

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My sketch pad poetry describes today a hidden gem tucked away,
Entangled vines twisted throughout,
Broken tree limbs and shattered windows scattered about,
Where woodland animals now seek food each day.

When the summer sun was bright and strong,
Abundant...

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Looking around,
trying to find something of interest.
The clock on the wall, mocks me,
"Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock,
find something to do"
I'm trying!

No one has replied to my texts.
Nothing good on tv.
Alone in the house.

I'll count...

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