Strokes Poems | Examples

Life and death in the strokes of the keys

Reading past writings

With lack of recognition..

What prompted the rising

Of those words..?

Many seem strange indeed

Words rising and gone

Life and death in the 

Strokes of the keys...

Bold Strokes

In October, I feel a nip in the air,
that frosts my breath like contrails of smoke;
as gilded leaves start falling from the trees.
Overhead, a gaggle of honking geese
are fleeing Winter's approach; 
joining the songbirds that have migrated south. 
The leaves are painted in thick, bold strokes
of yellow, scarlet, fuchsia, gold and orange;
inked by Jack Frost,
and sprinkled on the ground like confetti.
Amber and vermilion drip from the trees;
pooling into a crunchy sea
of colorful leaves that the wind weaves,
into shifting swirls of abstract art.
One of Nature's boldest paintings,
Autumn steals one's breath away, instilling awe;
infusing Summer's death with Winter's birth,
it is a magical transformation to behold.

Brush Strokes

Each brush stroke on the canvas
marks a moment in time
the artist left behind.
A fragment of thought expressed in 
a line, a trace, 
a spot, a dab, 
a splash, a splotch,
a daub by palette knife impasto.
The brush a fleeting hand
expressing the artists
shade and light, color and flare,
texture and shape in composition.
It marks the way the artist paints,
to convey the image in a way,
where the parts are 
much more than the whole, 
like footprints 
tracing the inception of creation.

Different strokes

(Our differences are like the pieces of a puzzle called life)

What does humanity want from life, it’s puzzling to know
Peace signs, Daisy cutters, find Jesus in the afterglow 
Seek out seventy two virgins, priming fuses to blow?
Come together in jannah, with a godlike libido

Write painstaking poetry, devoid of human ego
Kill every known disease, have a chat with a mosquito
Build a chocolate empire, watch fatty deposits grow 
Start a protein only diet, get ripped from head to toe?

View b movie stars at night, (censure) the matinee show
Have no more hangovers, enjoy life utterly blotto
Bring back prohibition, replace it with a pink benzo?
Smoke marijuana safely, vaporise tobacco

Play chess at home with the wife, or away with a bimbo
Give a hand to starving wolves, then go howl out the window 
Let a child get carried away, not by some wild dingo?
Set the bar high enough, flambé for a life of limbo

Brush Strokes

It's said there's magic to be found in the joy of innocence
and giving credence to the possibility there is a paradise.
I think that holds true when life's canvas is primed, ready
to be painted with the skillful brush strokes of an artful hand.

Life is like a painting, blending colors of autumn's leaves,
soft shades of amber, sienna, and coral, the romantic tones
illumined, yet shadowed by vestiges of life's highs and lows.
The artist is always careful to remain focused on the lovers.

Arm and arm, they may not have even noticed the rainfall.
Lost in each other, both totally engrossed in the moment.
They've found their paradise. No abstract painting on canvas, 
this one created with skillful brush strokes of a loving hand.


*painting by Jeff Rowland

Family Strokes

1.The dogma of atheist does not contain any stance
(positive nor negative)about any form of incest.
about pig eating,about swine soup,about fried frogs,
about consensual gaang baang etcetera.
2.Moreover,most atheists do not customarily condemn 
the very practices that religion condemns, 
for example,idolatry,adultery,and homosexuality.
3.Atheists do not constitute a cohesive or powerful group.
4.They argued that as long as sex is between two consenting 
adults,then it should be permitted.
5.It is an act that is morally or naturally wrong and it should 
be punished by law.

Soft Spoken Strokes

Several
soft spoken
strokes grazing against
the cool
contented
crest
winsomely
woven with
withering white.
Nurturing a
newborn
ambition
for light.
That boldly
begins burning
out it’s passionate
pale plume
of a plea .
Which is
always seen
reaching out
towards an
reluctant
royal reverie .
Whom is
too afraid to
walk amongst reality .

Word Strokes

Nestled woodland, leaves on line,
   thick, straight, and curving.
Mounded upland, forms eternal,
   Rounded, angled, and yielding.

Circled valley, meadows, fields,
   shapes, and pathways winding.
Seasons quartered, warm and cool,
   rust and mustards flying.

Upward outward, textured daybreak,
   quiet breezes low:
Close encounter, canvas earth,
   to view, to feel, to grow.

Brush Strokes

Brush strokes on paintings
Is a lot like life
Each one has a
Different meaning
Light strokes mean just wanting fun
Heavy strokes mean desire to have

Different Strokes

In final exams scored zero:
Who drives The Cleanest Pajero;
The Guys ahead of him in class
Aware he is of Upper Class:
Enjoying financial morning
But after exams mourning...

Todd could with The Law have a brush
And a cop to hospital rush:
Bodyguards with exploding shots,
Richly paid but in agreed shorts...

Wishing to be like Todd A Gross:
Those who'd guessed they couldn't be Boss.
Life, forever, Different strokes;
The first lesson for all hurt blokes.

Brush Strokes

Brush strokes

 The sky this afternoon had odd clouds
looked like icebergs floating on pink air

The seagulls took refuge on my terrace.

A grey wolf with a leg of lamb scratched 
on the door, I let it in.
when preparing the meat, the wolf left
down the hall that was dimly lit

I asked no question

I remembered a Russian painter of black forests
and dark red sky I think he was foresighted
therefore, sent to a Gulag.

The sea in the bay is dark with white spots
the Russian has gone mad, was his name Kozlovski?

Back in the hall where the wolf had disappeared
left a pile of dung as proof, in case, I thought
 it was a dream.

Paint Strokes

Ebony braids, moon misplaced
Indigo inferno flames
Speckled iris, abstract face

Drowsy eyes, acrylic paint
Haunted ash tree, trailing bleak
Torrid patchwork women faint

Pigeons perch on scribbled lines
Chanting fire petals dance,
Abstruse art, bewildered mind

Brush Strokes and Margins

I can’t draw,
but I paint

I still sin,
but a saint

I talk best
when I’m mute

All I’ve lost
in pursuit

I begin
at the middle

And end
at the start

To give back
to the silence

This thing
—we call art

(The New Room: March, 2021)

Fidelity Strokes

When one opts to be disloyal
Eyes casts constant betrayal.
If caught being blatant criminal
Admit your act devoid denial.

27-7=20 20

Placed 4th in the contest.
Note:Four lines poetry Contest.
Sponsored by Constance La France~A Dear heart.

Masterful Paint Strokes of Artistic Hand

Masterful paint strokes of his artistic hand.
Should use zinnias or roses that are banned?
Decides upon an honored verdant ginger jar
Muse stirs up imagination from afar 

Maestro’s every keystroke magnificently planned. 
Masterful paint strokes of his artistic hand 
Waiting now for proud pink zinnias to come to life
The lovesick artist paints them for his lovely wife


Painting will be revered for hundreds of years
This knowledge might well reduce Verster to tears 
Masterful paint strokes of his artistic hand, 
Ginger jar intelligently feathered and fanned.

Wife adored this one, thought it was his best.
Her enthusiasm was not a real test.
Artist gritted up paint with particles of sand
Masterful paint strokes of his artistic hand.

• Short Strokes Poems
• Famous Strokes Poems
• Best Strokes Poems
• Read Strokes Poems
• Long Strokes Poems
• Strokes Quotes