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Steve Page Jul 22
Inking an octopus
takes time and space
and detail-dexterity
with a sense of 4D
you see, their arms
flow
and your eye can't track
their deeply chronic current-cy.
Following a conversation on the radio.  And sketching an octopus featured.
gen Mar 16
the ones that constantly play on my mind,
now etched inside his head
he'd make you feel profound things
converting a blank page into a room full of thoughts and visualizations
waiting to be filled with intention
by the way his fingertips graze over canvas
strokes, hues, and lines
every exquisite detail
the lead scraping across the paper
shadows that protrude the overall portrait
contemplating to contrast the grays
forming vivid illustrations no one would ever envision
the paper comes to life before my eyes
it's like he never had to use his own hands
to touch each & every part of me
i only see him in monochrome
but he penetrates me with all kinds of hues

i hope he realizes that he himself, is art. my art.
4 ya
Brody Blue Jan 9
I wandered by the wayside
till I wore out my traveling shoes.
I stopped and smelled the roses,
it seemed to be that time was mine to lose.
But when the thorns drew blood,
I saw how little time I had to choose
To pluck the rose, or bleed out with
The rosebud blues
A song about everything you hate
Cross Boundry Sep 2020
i'll sketch you, mon ange
i'll draw you on the page, my pencil giving you immortality
poem four: french beauty
Amanda Hawk Jul 2020
Let me sketch you

With words

I will frame

Your body

With descriptions

Of the way

I view you

Ignore all the definitions

The world

Placed on your shoulders

Recreate a language

Using your name

As the beginning

So you can relish

The sound of every letter

Learn to adore

The sound of every vowel

Then maybe your reflection

Will become more within your eyes
AditiKo May 2020
Kept working
Sweating and renewing
And carefully weaving
My thoughts through the world
And I realise
That I didn't like it.

Frustrating
Venting and pounding
Failed art
Broken heart
All cleared away
Click
Delete.

And that's some space
For another tone, a face
Start afresh the next day.
There are only so many tries before you make it. Do the math people
Kairosclere May 2020
Each stroke of my charcoal pencil,
Scraping against paper,
Scratched out yet another scar
Masking my feelings
As they bled on paper-
Black rivers running scarlet,
And locked it there,
A dam brimming
Unleashed,
Wiped off, in a brave
Attempt to never
Be uncovered again,
Sunken
Under alluvium.
Connect to me
Via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
On Pinterest  @_kairosclere_
On hello poetry at https://hellopoetry.com/Kairosclere/
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

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Thank you for reading <3
Jenish Apr 2020
Nipped the brush, picked the paint, let the canvas fill
Oh my crush, like a saint, keep your head still
Let me first, draw the sketch, what a cute face!
Body next, let me fetch, lovely gaze and grace
Lines are made, streaks of color, your portrait is good
Bit of shade, made it duller, a monkey in woods.
Ankush Arora Dec 2019
“Taking photos is not allowed here”,
said the caretaker.
I, at first thought,
“I'm not a traitor”
.
I move ahead and observe the event.
Things appear like there is a revenant.
Not even a single picture,
but I was printing better than the 3D- printer.
.
I can make as lively a sketch,
as it comes out of the white;
but the same feeling I cannot transfer,
unless the recipient sees the outline.
.
I can talk to you on a video call,
but you know it right?
The increase in one dimension,
affects my sight.
.
We are taking photos of important events;
but we try to ignore the bad clicks.
We are using our eyes to see the bad,
but our camera to see the sketch.
.
But deep down we understand that
we can develop the camera;
but not sensitivity.
The picture always looks better in reality,
than in the gallery.
.
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