"draw" poems
A poem falls short; I'd like, instead
to draw a single line from me to you
and watch it curl into a word
so beautiful it's still unsaid –
or press paper to the window pane
so that the day might saturate
a note that brightly warms your hands,
spills birdsong from imagined trees
and buzzes like fat bumblebees,
but I am bound by language, love; I can't.
Jul 12, 2011
Jul 12, 2011 at 7:52 AM UTC
Death told her
her life should end
and he was her friend
Calmly, she stole my gun
she walked outside in the sun
pulled the trigger, set the mood
barrel to her head to conclude
I saw her head come undone
,,, Reached down, for my gun
Eyed the chunks in her hair
Now to my head |
|I draw a rose there.
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 9:42 PM UTC
#*Can it love you like God loves you, with a love that is better than life?
Can it connect you to eternal beauty? Can it save you? Can it redeem you?
Can it lift you out of the miry pit? Can it make you clean enough to finally feel acceptable?
Can it delight your soul to the core? Can it take your breath away with its faithfulness to you? Can it paint both sunrise and sunset across the sky to beckon your attention? Can it cause the breeze to blow and gently caress your cheeks? Can it send hummingbirds and wildflowers across your path to romance your heart? Can it parade before you the starry host and call them each by name?
Can it probe you to the depths and fill you with itself?
Can it rush to your aid riding on the wings of the wind?
Can it satisfy your hunger and thirst with bountiful things?
Can it give to you feet like a deer that you might dance upon the heights?
Can it arrange every detail of your life to draw you and drive you to itself?
Can it pursue you with all the resources of the universe?
Can it know you through and through and still desire you?
Can it raise you up and seat you in the heavenly realms and bless you with every spiritual blessing? Can it supply your every need out of its glorious riches? Can its grace be sufficient for you and its mercy help you in your greatest temptation? Can it pour overflowing comfort into you through all of your troubles? Can it reach down to draw you out of deep waters? Can it set you on an unshakable foundation? Can it bound across the mountains to come to your rescue? Can it make you lie down in green pastures and lead you beside still waters?
Can it walk with you through the darkest wilderness and never leave you or forsake you? Can it carry you when you are weak or have fallen? Can it let you rest between its shoulders when you are weary or burdened?
Can it escort you to heaven’s banqueting table
and spread its banner of love over you?
Can it hide you in the shelter of its wing?
Can it be your daily portion and immerse you in the boundlessness of itself?
Can it clothe you in robes of righteousness and garments of salvation?
Can it give to you praise in exchange for mourning?
Can it bestow on you a crown of beauty for ashes?
Can it turn your wailing into dancing?
Can it flood you with peace like a river?
Can it fill your heart with joy in the worst of afflictions?
Can it know the way to lead you home?
Can it refine you in its fire and bring you forth as gold?
Can it capture you fully even as it sets you fully free?
Can it ever truly be your Everything?*#
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:47 PM UTC
*I could draw everything that comes to my mind
except for your smile. Because I feel that
no one can do your smile better than you.*
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 8:07 AM UTC
Worn
They -- fall
Slowing down sight
I draw closer and closer
Then --
Flutter to stay awake and realize I'm not ready for this
I'm not yet able to enter that dark place of meditation
-- But
I feel it coming more swiftly
My heavy eyes falling
With every
Last shutter
Closer
Closer
No -- yes
Sleep.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 11:40 PM UTC
The sun is with the paintbrush
ambling down the river blue.
See, your eyes are the mirror
in between the earth and sky duo.
Bask in the open air theatre
eye on spread out with colour.
Indulge in, with a slice of summer
you got the brightest star, the light
on your canvas, you got the clue.
Now draw your way through
art yours in between the two!
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 1:27 PM UTC
Friendship last forever
Friendship is better than love
We can loose our loved one's
But friendship stays with us forever
Friendship never ask who you are
Friendship only says you are my friend
Friendship never ask where you are from
Friendship only says you are always there for me
Friendship make us who we are
It tells us the good and bad side of us
Friendship always care
Friendship listen to our voice
Friendship listen to our heart
Friendship never let u down
Friendship draw you closer
Even when u part ways
Friendship never let go
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
~
*Hold my hand and persuade the way
tell me all you want to say
~
Whisper softly in my ear,
all those things I want to hear
~
Kiss my lips and touch my skin
bring out passions deep within
~
Draw me close and hold me near
eradicate my pain and fear
~
In the darkness of the night,
shine your beacon, be my light
~
In the luster of the sun,
demonstrate you are the one
~
Offer me wings so I can fly
and I will soar when you're nearby
~
Infilrate my heart, break the wall,
it's time for me to let it fall
~
I've been a prisoner, extensively
Break my chains and set me free
~
Strip me of my armor tight
this time I won't put up a fight
~
Release my soul held deep within
For you’re in my heart where love begins*
~
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 9:03 AM UTC
Hey let's play a game!
Post a video on the internet of it just for the fame!
Or maybe, let's play for fun.
And in the end we'll see who has won.
How about some Black Ops, maybe Resident Evil?
Or how about some Conker's Bad Fur Day multiplayer? Cause we can both be robber weasels.
I really like pokemon, also it's all about that Mario.
The greatest character in Mariokart is always going to be Wario!
I'd love to fight you on some Tekkon 6
But maybe I'll let you pick the game, or we could just draw sticks.
So here I made a little cup filled names of different games.
Just draw one Popsicle stick, and see which one of the names is on it.
That way we make this quick and easy
And can get back to our videogames!
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 6:38 PM UTC
When I was just a little girl,
And as little girls were taught then,
I played with dolls and a teaset,
Made mudcakes for food,
Wore skirts, made my hair into ponytails as I was let.
I saw the boys with the abandon which comes with free wear and play,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.
When I was older, a teen
and as teen girls were taught then,
Walk, talk, rock softly
Don’t draw too much attention
Or attempt to explore too much.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with freedom to play, sit, be as they want ,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.
When I was sixteen, oh sweet sixteen,
And as sixteen year old girls were taught then,
Don’t wear clothes that show your frame,
That’s indecent and you will be in another home and will incur alot of blame.
Don’t wander, argue, or express an opinion,
You’re a girl, being humble, quiet and gentle becomes you.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with freedom of movement and speech,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.
When I was older, and passionately sought a particular career,
I was admonished as many other girls in my time,
It’s not a career for women, late nights, more men to be around,
When you get married, that’s not going to work and troubles will abound.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with the freedom of pursuing their dreams,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.
When I was married, and setting a home, working and raising a family,
I left my work as many other girls in my time,
For my husband to follow his work path,
Unquestioningly, unflinchingly, resolutely.
I saw the men then with the abandon which comes with freedom of being in control of their lives,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.
But this is just the surface of my questioning being a girl,
When boys and men around tried their stunts on girls and women,
I questioned my existence.
When many girls and women I know,
Were told to stay mum on men close who took advantage of them
I questioned my existence.
When In the workspace,
Women got paid less than men because their salary were subtly looked at as secondary salaries,
Or needed to speak louder to be heard,
I questioned my existence.
When the onus of keeping a relationship working was the woman’s responsibility largely,
I questioned my existence.
When a woman got hit by her spouse,
Its she who may have provoked him.
When a man strayed,
Its she who was not a good enough wife that he had to look elsewhere.
I questioned my existence.
The atrocities many men are capable of,
The filth many men spread,
**** hate, aggression, manipulation and more
Abuse, gaslighting inside closed doors,
Wearing a mask of sophistication outside
Animalistic and entitled beings to the core.
My apologies to men who are not,
And I know some,
But they are but a handful,
Too insignificant in the larger way the world works.
But then I see me,
A harbinger of change,
In my home and around.
Raising my son differently,
Advocating for change purposively,
Actioning resolutely what’s right,
Woman for women with all my might.
I see so many more women now who retain their selves and are beacons of hope,
They don’t sit around and just mope.
And I am glad I am a girl,
And I question no more,
I question no more.
Feb 16, 2020
Feb 16, 2020 at 4:28 AM UTC
***Imagine what would happen if suddenly
All of our technology just vanished?***
I know that most think
Life would become serene and peaceful
With socialisation and healthy leisure
All year round
But if we stop and truly picture
This new world
What we will see
Is chaos and confusion
With no understanding of how
To socialise besides our
Digital devices
And with no clue how
To yield a bat and ball.
Beyond this our drone-like minds
Wouldn't be able to comprehend
How to read or draw
Magical talents belonging to
An older world.
How pitiful existence is
With all of our life force
Being ****** into these gadgets
And how truly unlucky
For the new generation
As all their talents and mind are wasted.
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 1:53 AM UTC
#Birdbox
by Amoy
I live on your social acceptance of me
You keep my face buried, my eyes blind and my mind occupied
You draw me in, I loose myself, trying to find myself
I can't hear the birds chirp, I can't see the sunrise
You are always here but yet I'm afraid and I’m alone
The happiest people living their "best lives" surrounds me
Telling me to see, telling me I need to be apart of it
Don't you want to be like me?
Live feeds, Status updates
Selfies, likes
Love me, don't scroll without a comment
Live streams, fake news, fake friends
Program-me, I need your feeds
It's not just a movie, it's real life get a clue
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC
Paint me in any colour you want,
you wish for
Draw any outline you visualize.
This will fade,
Falling victim to the seasons.
A masterpiece
Within itself,
the intricacy of the strokes
Shall be hidden by
the next masterpiece
That will take its place.
The unsung, the
Unheard
are the ones who draw this,
day
And night.
Going unnoticed,
no one stops to
Consider the combinations,
the contrasts,
Its various interpretations,
almost like
Those of a Rubik's Cube.
Layer,
upon caked layer,
depicts violence,
Craves freedom,
breathes anonymity and
Displays inspiration.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 7:59 AM UTC
I like immigrants, immigration. Legal immigration,
Jane passionately corrects. Actually my goal is a borderless world.
Gathering the neighborhood like family.
The men discuss sterilizing welfare mothers. I say You're working
around the edges,
humanity has exceeded the carrying capacity of the planet,
even those with jobs. And spouses. And houses.
Yet it's an idyll of an early summer evening, new cut grass,
two baseball teams of children playing in it. Safe from Pakistan.
News photos of Muslim refugees, women in blue robes, biblically
carrying children away from holocaust. The fundamentalist army
not far behind, beheading sinners, sure in its righteousness
as the Holy Roman Empire.
Somehow Joel Osteen the evangelist comes up
while talking about how the Catholic Church is irrelevant in North
America,
even Latin America and Africa are going evangelical.
Izzi likes Osteen, awesome extemporaneous speaker, no teleprompter,
up from bootstraps message. My wife says he's probably Jewish.
Fortunately no one claims the Holocaust never happened or slavery
was voluntary.
What is the carrying capacity of the planet?
In China is it each couple or each adult that gets one offspring?
As life expectancy and standards rise,
family size diminishes. We draw together into greener, tighter cities.
The children of three monotheistic religions, atheists and agnostics
play in city streets, work farm fields, explore forests, deserts,
grasslands, space.
Two ancient female poets: Enheduanna and Sappho
are a revelation. The clarity of their complaints:
lost lover, lost city.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
“When an injured athlete urge a comeback to field for love of game, his vulnerability toward previous muscle wound hinder his mental ability to go on with a full swing. Though, same rule implicate for people who hold bleeding pen to draw alphabetic emotions”
Yesterday I met one of those fragile birds. She carry fractured pen fingers under her beautiful skin, has curious eyes with strange shyness and a touched heart. The pursue of selflove somehow quelled her creative charm. I never expected to encounter someone so likeminded. She put away her pen to avoid emotions, identically similar reason made me quit this so-called ability which once lured bunch of close friends and many others who never knew the face behind these emotionally colored pages...
Wish I could feel her feathers and let her touch my scars, but her shivering Fragile Soul stopped me to become a...
‘Bad Boy She Craves For...’
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 3:35 PM UTC
1664
I did not reach Thee
But my feet slip nearer every day
Three Rivers and a Hill to cross
One Desert and a Sea
I shall not count the journey one
When I am telling thee.
Two deserts, but the Year is cold
So that will help the sand
One desert crossed—
The second one
Will feel as cool as land
Sahara is too little price
To pay for thy Right hand.
The Sea comes last—Step merry, feet,
So short we have to go—
To play together we are prone,
But we must labor now,
The last shall be the lightest load
That we have had to draw.
The Sun goes crooked—
That is Night
Before he makes the bend.
We must have passed the Middle Sea—
Almost we wish the End
Were further off—
Too great it seems
So near the Whole to stand.
We step like Plush,
We stand like snow,
The waters murmur new.
Three rivers and the Hill are passed—
Two deserts and the sea!
Now Death usurps my Premium
And gets the look at Thee.
25.3k
It's a **** shame.. These girls are so different yet they are the same.. A figment of imagination .. To draw a line in the divine pigment and foundation.. 2 Queens in the same race.. In the same race.. Can't get along because of the tone on their face... Whatever the case I wish you all could get first place.. Don't let the color of your skin have you unfit within... I wish I could undraw that a line with the pen.. Of self hate that they handed us.. We didn't wanna hate eachother they demanded us... These skin tones... They tore us apart from the field to the kitchen.. Enough of the ******** & ******* QUEENS PRAISE QUEENS!!!!! And that final.. Instead of making enemies.. Make yourself someone's idol... Don't let this world segregate a segregated being.. I'm dedicating this to you.. Every dark skinned & light skinned Queen... ONE LOVE...
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
Earned under great spell of segregation,
With luster grand and blinding glimmers of false hope,
Standing like Trajan over his land, twice the spoils of war.
We must now thwart the hatred,
We must now look our brothers in the skin and decide if we can shoot them in the mouth.
Where lies the liberty in mysticism?
Why is this culture facilitating our schism,
And how now will we draw our party lines, or be done with them for a line in the sand?
Let us not fold in the face of dictatorship.
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 7:52 AM UTC
i hate that i’m lying in bed
with a cup of tea
and can see myself in the future
in our bed
with a cup of tea
and you lying next to me
and i hate that i can see myself turning out the light
and laying my head to rest
on your chest
i hate that i can see us sitting at a little round kitchen table
next to the window
you in your black rimmed glasses
scrolling through your phone
me with my hair tied up and one knee draw up to my chest,
eating a bowl of oatmeal as the sun creeps its way
into the middle of the sky
i hate that i can see us side by side
brushing our teeth in a cramped bathroom
in front of a foggy mirror,
listening to music as we get ready for the day
i hate that i can see us walking out the front door,
i hate that i can see us kissing goodbye
because i’m lying in bed
with a cup of tea
thinking about all of this,
thinking about you
yet i’ve already kissed you
goodbye.
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 12:50 PM UTC
Sat on a sedan
Spiderman took her hand.
Went down on one knee
And said
Will you marry me?
I cannot face
The rest of eternity
With each generation's
Take on modernity.
It's old fashioned values
I look for and see -
Your confidence,
Common sense,
Your honesty,
Sincerity,
Your quirkiness
And peacableness.
But most of all
Your peerless take on life
Is what does it for me.
Will you be my wife?
Spiderman, Spiderman,
How you do woo!
And you have such qualities
That draw me to you -
Your patience,
Respect,
Your considerable intellect,
Your gentleness,
Strength of mind -
I could go on at length and find
You could be my cobweb?
I could be your fly?
Could you be the man for me
Until the day I die?
What more can I say than
You may have concurred
That I do things my own way.
So can you guess?
Little Miss Muffet Said Yes!
And do you know what?
As they lay there
On that Le Corbusier chair
Without a care in the world -
And you know it's not novel
To be graphic -
They were not afraid at all.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
You say you love me,
Then threaten to leave me.
When does this love
Become unhealthy?
When you tell me that
After this
I can't have any more partners?
As though I had any say in yours.
When you enforce a set of boundaries
While completely disrespecting
Those I ask of you?
When you don't want to hear about it
But you do want to hear about it
And if I don't tell you about it
Then you're just as upset
As if I'd brought it up?
When you call me while I'm working
Yelling because you say I ****** up
And you want to hear me cry
Because then you'll know
That I still care about you?
When you're telling me
How in love you are with me
And how you love when we connect
While telling your other partners
That I'm really just immature
And a horrible person for
Trying to hold your hand?
What about when
You're trying to control
Your partner's and my behavior
By telling them that
They can't hang out with me
Or be my friend anymore
Since it's a choice of solidarity
And it breaks their loyalty to you?
Completely disregarding that
We are best friends too?
Or when you expect me to call into work
Because you aren't satisfied with
The way our discussion ended
And you think that you need to be
Always my main priority
Over even my financial security?
When I'm expected to be present
Whenever you want to talk about us
Or about an issue we're having
But if you don't want to talk about it
Then you'll just turn your phone off?
Or what about when
You boast about how
Open and transparent you are
Then turn around and
Expect me to know what your feeling
And how to fix it
Before we even talk?
And if I don't know
Then I guess I'm just stupid
Which only makes you more angry
And lastly,
What about when
I'm trying to talk to you about the things
That are causing me pain
But you can't even listen to me
Because you just get angry
Because of course I'm just demonizing you?
And even if my feelings are valid
So are yours
And you think I'm wrong
So nothing ever changes
When do I draw the line
And walk away from this "love"
That I honestly
Don't know if I feel anymore?
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC
Walking out the door of your tree house,
You draw your sword.
Defending and exploring the crazy world around you,
Taking that first step.
You grab your friends, head off to distant lands,
Protecting the exotic princess.
The land awaits and the world is all botched,
What time is it?
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:03 AM UTC
Oh, to be a poet
one must be so emotional.
Well, no. Not necessarily.
We're only really capable
of understanding feeling,
investigating our emotions.
It doesn't mean we cry all day,
or pass nights in dark rooms moping.
We have lives; come home from work
or get in on a night bus back;
it's from all this experience
that we can draw out fact.
From mundane to extraordinary
we will become inspired.
Our strength is versatility
and life ignights our fires.
So, we do not all have to be
constricted to intensity
-to ponder oh-so seriously
on what it simply means 'to be'.
We can be strong, flirty, or mean
or to the brim with confidence.
For, what does 'to be a poet' mean,
if you cannot explore yourself?
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC