Short Dabs Poems

Jack Frost handiwork
dabs Vasoline for daybreak....
opaque swirl windshield...

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Ball in the pocket,
Glass eye in the socket,
Ripped abs,
big dabs,
too many fingers in too many pies,
Zac Efron has a glass eye...

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elevator's doors
silently close shut
mirrored stainless steel

immaculate woman
dabs tears in reflection ...

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Sidewalk of color
Slate grey with little darkness
Sometimes light finds way inside
And grey swallows in
Whole pieces concrete silver
While white takes its spot in dabs

Russell Sivey...

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Fuzzy.
Criss-crossed and 
checkerboarded but mostly fuzzy
Blue neon stain marks 
The march of time
Scary, Espantoso, cualquier prefieres.
All is black now. But not totally 
Negro with dabs of magenta
And not ‘till this line is done.
Fuzzy,...

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he grabs the safety bars
rolls and falls
rolls and falls
remembers baby steps
until he dabs
and his skates shave the air
neon reds and blues and greens
in the party atmospheric rink
where music records his groovy feet

2/20/2018...

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Spring inks 
cherry blossoms
in pinks.

Dabs lean
weeping willows
lime green.

And tints
blue waters like
glazed chintz.


(Musette)


4/2/2021


Photo #3
Finding Your Musette 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May...

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Plein air jubilee
Dark dabs conceal your monkey
On a painting spree


By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX








Inpired by Georges-Pierre Seurat's "Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte", 1884-1886, The Art Institute of Chicago....

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Thermite skies burning through the storm
Hapless waves contort their form
Every whisper cottoned with a foaming roar

Shoreline beaten and eroded
Tryst becomes a love affair
Oiled dabs and daubs
Rinsed highlights splattered with death blacks
Mesmerised by storms eye quiet lack...

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Limerick: Once a born blind man was promised full sight

Once a born blind man was promised full sight
By an ophthalmologist fully tight
     Two slits and dabs all told
     Saw in wonderful world –
Beauty Contest: gouged his own eyes outright.

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2015...

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Above the mountains golden haze
Blends from lemon twist
Snow white, silver, platinum 
Popping pale midst
Lavender and lilac cools the warmer flush
With dabs of smokey pinks from our makers brush
As apricot and orange peach
Blends upon the rise
Captivating, Fascinating
Scenic sky surprise...

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Aadab the Aarab's
Favourite food was kebabs,
Be it beef, be it chicken,
He thought they were finger lickin'
With hummus and garlic dabs


authors note: i know Adab & Arab
 are spelled with one
 ...a.....at the start but i put in
 the extra ....a.....for pronunciation
 of a long.....a.....sound...

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Old Scribe

Dry and pointed, it bleeds nothing. 
Scratch, scratch, scratch, it tears the paper.
Clang, it hits the bottom of the trash bin.
She frowns and retrieves it. 
Licks the end and dabs the well.
The knobby fingers gracefully draw it across the page. 
It bleeds freely in the eloquent strokes on the parchment.

July 10, 2020...

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In a Shoreham garden,scent of blossom fills the air,a white blaze of spring to make every heart sing.Impressioniste before its time.A profusion of clouds or blobs,dabs &extravagences per se.This stylised enigma proliferacy in a pastoral wood by a once-upon-a-time teen-age prodigy..made good.	


Inspired by Samuel Pamer’s iA Shoreham Garden 1827...

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God's greatest creation 
A sculpture of pure 
genius for man to marvel at
A living portrait art made flesh painted 
across the canvas of the world
Hues of brown, strokes of red, dabs of 
yellow dipping his brush in the blackness 
of space creating the first Ms. Universe
written by Keith Edward Baucum aka The 
Brown Philosopher aka The Green Poet 
aka
Red Seven...

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God's greatest creation
a sculpture of pure genius for man to 
marvel at
A living portrait art made flesh painted 
across the canvas of the world
Hues of brown
strokes of red
dabs of yellow
dipping his brush in the blackness of 
space creating the first Ms Universe
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka Red 
Seven aka The Brown Philosopher aka 
The Green Poet...

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Sprung buds strung along branches burst into bloom
Unsung, a tad early, unheralded sly petals plume
A spurt and squirt of color to break winter's gloom and doom
Like the dabs of paint squeezed from tubes on brushes abloom
To paint a mantle cloak, donned each Spring, as a many-colored costume
To blot out Winter's chills, before coat is shed in Summer's cauldron spume...

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Creativity, she dabs 
Of oil, she strokes

A brazen thought

A daring splash

Stepping back to dream....

Two little wild flower
A perfect fit
Next to an apple tree

Looking beyond 
She climbed a  hill 
Of wildgrass and mustard seed

Losing herself in the azure sky
She takes flight
Where one Redtail Hawk
Soars to heavenly heights 



 
...

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Feel the light
Feel the air
Begin to sense 
Something there

Like a difference 
Like a new thing
Sense the change
We call Spring

Smooth, glare ice
Now a muddy mush
All soon to be
Green and lush

A newborn feeling
An evolving hue
Pale yellow rays 
Touch sky blue

Dabs of purple
With tulip pink
Lift our eyes and
The way we think

Today is the day
That shall bring
Clearly a change
We call Spring...

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Dabs of paint
Blots of ink
Challenging the world
To think

Reflect on texture
Tint and style
Acceptance, truth
Or full denial

Metaphoric words
That pierce
Trembling minds
Of those thought fierce

Subtle hints
Of bravery
Hidden in
Dark knavery

Blots of ink
Dabs of paint
Shades of what it is
And ain’t

For in the dab
And in the blot
Artistic battles
Need be fought

John G. Lawless
©6/18/2023...

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snowman raises arms
snow dabs trees on thick white ground...
coyote and pups roam


Dec. 9, 2022        10.47pm


Theme: coyote

PS Syllable Counter
Syllables Per Line:	5 7 5
Total # Syllables:	17

howmanysyllables.com          
14 words
17 syllables
82 characters                       


Winter Nature Themed Haiku
Contest Judged:  12/13/2022 3:53:00 PM
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Place 5 (up to 6 multi-w)...

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Written by Gail DeBole

My laughing paintbrush
Amuses the canvas with
Many mornings and tickles
Two half-polished pumpkins.

Cobwebs of cornstalk
Casually poise on the
Pumpkins and branch into
The air like pick-up sticks.

A stroke of orange
Pumpkin gets
Lost on my cheek.
The camouflaged children 
Have come and gone.

Two pumpkins helplessly smile
On the itchy rug.
The third is in the oven...

Becoming more like the 
Hairline of a balding man
The longer it bakes....

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The Pancake poem


      Pouring batter in the pan,
      brought wild anticipation
      
      Dappling tiny dabs,
      of what I thought was mere batter, 
      only peaked my senses.

      The pancakes grew in numbers;
       while my taste buds
        nestled with satisfaction 

         Peaking my senses,
         only, prompted more pancakes
         

         Could I ever hope to make such
        creations of perfection again

09.30.2015...

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A diamond sun lit up the azure skies,
And there was color in emerald fields,
Fragrant flowers in every hue and size,
Perky dabs of solar radiance revealed!

The beaming smiles were in the garden,
Just past the golden hour of the day
Of chianti sunflowers. Purple martins
Fluttered among the vibrancy at play.

It was peaceful, scintillating Sunday,
And speckles of color were everywhere,
With water lilies and singing blue jay,
While day moved toward sunset unaware....

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I hear currawongs threading
their melodic calls through
the trees, sewing a dark 
into the cold air.
And far below,
a flock of white cockatoos 
screech their noisy chaos 
along the deepening shadows
of the valley floor. 

They seem like dabs 
of zinc white escaping
from a painting, sprouting
wings to lift them
from the canvas 
and fly them to where
they flicker on the edge
of the unseen, 
before dissolving forever
into the distances
of blue ultramarine.

...

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