Short Penciled Poems

Love and emotion penciled on the heart
bring a tear to my eye,
fading they part
Truth and loyalty inked unto the soul
form a smile in my heart,
lasting impart...

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Death has nothing to say,
there are no readable maps,
only a journey
penciled-in upon a blank sky.

Imagination colors itself,
builds its own truth.

Eventually we must draw our own maps.
Time waits for us
      to remember....

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Grimlins sneaking in 
Stealing her joy
Choking the life right out of her minutes

She hestitated before she committed, but it never matters much in the end
She has to begin again
Another calendar full of penciled in
Appointments...

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in my heart
where love has fled
a place where angels
fear to tread
a hole that's deep
a heart that bled
a place where angels
fear to tread

in my heart
that once knew love
a full moon
and stars above
memories
that are displaced
a penciled note
that's been erased...

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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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Framed
I saw a picture on the wall
Many things I could see
I complimented the artist
But he was not looking at me
Only colored imagination
Penciled in dreams
People are color
He had no need for me
For he had his landscape
His world of color
Painted judgement
Not room for others
There is only room
For people he paints
Which color are you
And can you be framed

Tonya Cope...

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Two of them are for the steering wheel;
To drive unsafely is to be a heel. 
One is to make penciled calculations;
To make missteps is to spoil relations. 
Two more make amorous advances;
Based on calculations, he has good chances.
One makes careful notes, oh so detailed,
So, one day, his memoirs can be retailed.
Two are needed to solemnly pray 
That a baby spider is not on its way....

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THE ARTIST’S WAY

“I’ve penciled you in”
Said he,  with romantic eyes.

“Me too!” 
She says, leaning in.

His artist hand
Scribbles her a shade of passion purple
Her pony tail slender down her back

Her hand, likewise, scribbles passion red,
A masculine man
With intense stare

The pencils slide to the side
~ As they embrace ~
 Forming a heart 
Which none can erase

Kim Rodrigues © 2017...

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I wrote to someone lately
And they didn't write back
But its not like that
It was to someone sincere
And the message was clear

Do you hold me in the same regard?
As the sentimental message I penciled in the card
Or do you find indulging me seriously that hard
Sorry to have bothered you
I know I am not pretty
Street like the city
More the pity

Because you where the only name on my list
Let me return to my wrist
Never be to missed
Never to be kissed...

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The days fill up, ‘til every square
Has something penciled in.
Since I retired, that’s the way
It’s somehow always been.

A class, a game, a lunch with friends,
Appointments with a doc,
Some travel plans, museum tours,
A babysitting block.

At times, an empty space stands out,
But I don’t really mind
For I can then catch up with all
The chores I’ve left behind.

Retirement provides the time,
A very special perk,
To do the things we couldn’t do
When we were stuck at work....

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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 your petals float in an essence of trust
leave lasting wafts of honey upon my lips
linger awhile letting our wanton ways exist
just come closer and I'll take the hurt away...

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