Drawing Poems - Poems about Drawing

I aways start drawing my cartoons with their eyes Nose and mouth follow in second and third place Chin, hair, ears, earring, and neck are next My drawings are predictable; they are always in this order Sometimes I wonder if other cartoonists draw like I do Are they in my kind of rut?...

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Leaves are floating by Windows, nights are drawing in Cooling Southern times.......

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HO HO WHOA Second Chance algorithm drawing for January 17, 2025 No matter I kept fingers and toes crossed, and waited with bated breath since January 2, 2025 even converted from skeptic to orthodox Judaism, and strictly followed the Torah, Talmud, and traditional Jewish laws, and made good on the gamut of my misdeeds considered a shonda, nevertheless yours truly courtesy the powers at...

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Visual Art I saw you in a dream You were so nice Could remember the face I tried to make it come alive Through some art To recall how lovely it was But feel it could be better I’m not that confident I still feel it could be better Will try again when my technique gets better. ...

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trees are ridiculously difficult to draw the one in front of me is a bipolar walnut her limbs go up, down, over, under, around they are gnarly and crude but also straight she is a skeleton of herself in October tens of thousands of her leaves are missing I marvel at her haphazardness her remaining leaves seem to mock me bet you cannot...

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I am drawing stars and smileys in your Notebook, while you being away and looking on Justins phone at the back. You forced sam to sit near us, he hesitated because he made me cry yesterday but somehow after minutes he changed his mind and came to us. I didn't felt talking, I did never talk to...

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I went to the man at school today He chats a bit and watches me play Asking questions about my feeling Feelings that have got me thinking How I am, and what I enjoy to do Where I go, what time I spend with who He asked. "How would you draw sad?" What a stupid question, is he mad But it got me...

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I like to draw, in black pencil and then with hues; my style is creative but is quite raw, I let muse...

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without suitcases they surf skies drawing beauty ~tireless travelers~ ...

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It starts when she is thirteen, Small jagged lines across her fingers. ‘Scratched by a cat,’ Is the lie that she tells. While the scars on her fingers Turn to thin white lines on her arms. A silent plea for the help She’d never ask for. They increase in consistency Until people start to notice. She’s told that it’s wrong. Never once ‘Are you...

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*** Sketching the Ballerina *** It is well, quite well after midnight. My pup lies fagged on the blanket as close to me as possible. The young ballerina sits slightly slumped On a bench across from the barre, still wearing Her stage costume with its long net skirt. I am vexed that the sleeping hour...

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You body is strong as an ox You will to live is even stronger But your organs are giving up And you can do nothing but to drink your potion of miracle and hope But life still goes on while you still breath And the sun still shines June 8, 2023...

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I draw a waking breath, draw back sleeps curtains. I'm drawing an image of myself as a gray decay of distance, a long swim away from a day of youth, where a boy once drew his name into golden sands. Sea shore, sea shores, high-tides drawing ever nearer; must I draw another dawn onto a fast fading page or shall I go open a window, breath deep enough...

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Warm nights I sit drawing innuendo, kicking my feet I hold a white sketch pad; How in the world are you oblivious to the soft strokes I indulge with my pen? Look at my hands realize how they flow, this feeling is more than a passing fad; Honey, you take yourself too serious; Grab me and take advantage now and then; Oh how...

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I looked up into the sky Dreamt of a world entirely of mine The twinkling stars engulfed in the pitch black ocean My avidious eyes gleaming to see them To be known In a world unknown ,the time flew abide and the black ocean soon turned white Again I looked up into the sky But this time the world...

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