Pencil Poems - Poems about Pencil

On some days, I am the pencil, drawing with uncertain steps hopes on sheets of paper, My hand trembles, but leaves traces of dreams still daring to take shape, Other days, I am the eraser, erasing with such force that holes remain like memories, The paper tears under the burden of my attempts to make everything disappear, to...

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plans incised on plain paper careful calligraphy of a plane sailing high above the clouds shrouded in anticipation veiled in smudges and tears slowly running out of ink resolute fears fuel the fire earthquakes resurface nebulous horizons and I have not the foggiest idea uncertainty shapes a landscape full of thunder and lightening a sinkhole for rainbows handing over completely to what to whom to when a seeming...

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Pencil jumped out of my right hand and gave my left fingers a tiny tap Three new ideas came to me in a quick snap; I needed pencil back. Pencil refused to take direction, gave my cheek a tiny slap. It was my fault for personalizing him and naming him Mack. Mack wrote for an hour and ten minutes,...

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I have been pushed and pulled, Across an empty expanse, Growing smaller and smaller with time. Used until nothing was left for me to do. I watched as they used others, breathing life within their blood. That once blank place. That once ivory place. That once is no more. Now I see, How I was used, What they created with me, to start, to sketch, to create....

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Pencil Sharpener My pencil sharpener (my pencil shavings like to get high on the bubble of air clogging up the run of liquid in the pipes) was designed to absorb my screams of extreme anger. Also designed to absorb my strained whispers. ...

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Pencil me in I won't disappoint I am here Right here for you Pencil me in see what becomes I won't steer you away I won't erase any part of you Pencil me in The picture could be grand We can see how we grow Pencil Me in I am not afraid of you I am not scared of the past Pencil me in It would be...

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Basically I am lead, whose am I Energized particles of energy And if I embrace a tree I'm engagement In energy Spiraling from Heaven toward Earth Like a lightning volt placed in the vessel Define gravity group growth Like a grappling hook suspended over the edge of a building engagement rains I am light encased in the trees Yet this vessel I not...

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Beautiful arts Of pencil using Is cool and pleasing To the eyes, mesmerising Every lines defines Artist loving hand Every stroke touches My very inner core As a person who loves art My appreciation is never ending How those lid creates beauty I only surmise how lovely Those hands God has given Such talent to me is extraordinary....

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If your a little shy but you’d like to tell someone what’s in your heart… A pencil and a piece of paper…is a pretty good place to start. ...

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It’s been many many years since my grandpa passed away…. years since his sweet smile and sage advice reached me… but whenever I pick up a pencil I remember one lesson he tried to teach me… Grandpa was old-school…he’d say, “You should always carry a pencil wherever you may go… because a pencil will help remind you of four things you...

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When pencil ends In master's hand Expect an art....

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Pencil Sharpener Woman Her shapely metal figure was baby blue, but there was much more to her. She sharpened all grades of pencil lead with the greatest of whir. Her movable face plate with pencil gripper and human features was, as commented by most library customers, the opposite of gross. She was very fond of customers of all colours, of...

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Why do i sprawl out on my bed ...

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I consider myself a technologically savvy old geezer. With a simple utterance of “Hey Google, show me cute puppy videos” my world is filled with hours of mindless entertainment. I can do Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Linked-In about as well as any old-fashioned Neanderthal. With all this modern-day technology at my fingertips you’d think my...

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a pencil, slender and sleek, whispers secrets on the page, its graphite tip, a dancer's toe, tracing lines of thought, unencumbered. it dances across the paper's stage, twirling and swirling in graceful arcs, a silent symphony of words and shapes, unfolding the mysteries of the mind. its lead, a conductor's baton, conducting the orchestra of ideas, scribbling melodies of inspiration, in the language of graphite and...

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