Utencils
Pencil, pen, charcoal, graphite, i can use whatever utencil
I want to write ' rhymes so slick'
I could write a lymric in skilcraft or a sonnet with bic
And if you want to learn how come close, Ill show ya
This is the beginners lesson, grab yourself a #2 ticonderoga
get your piece of paper, some lines to lay on
Maybe at the end draw a picture with your favorite colour crayon
You see im an artist, what i do is compose art
My first set of colored pencils: 12 pack of roseart
But no matter the tool, graphite charcoal pen or pencil
Ill try to make art with any utencil
poem by Jason Murak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Ode to Pencils
Pencil o pencil
What would i use to trace the stencil
Possibly crayon, marker, or a pen
Unfortunately they are back in the den
Could i use a pencil with color
They might be much taller
So thanks for the pencil to be born
It is easier to draw when there aren't torn
That is my ode
I hope you thought it flowed
poem by Kristi Miller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On occasion I have drawn as a release from painting. The economy in using paper, pencil, charcoal and crayon can help towards a greater gamble and higher rewards. I also find that drawing can generate ideas more rapidly than painting.
quote by William Scott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Charcoal Night
On a charcoal night the owl calls.
On a charcoal night wolves sharpen their claws.
On a charcoal night children shake with fear.
The charcoal night is growing near.
On a charcoal night the demon dogs sing.
On a charcoal night the little stars gleam.
On a charcoal night the air goes cold.
The nightmares and stories are always told.
On a charcoal night wolves wet their fangs.
On a charcoal night the owls call rang.
On a charcoal night the beasts are out.
On a charcoal night this is their town.
On a charcoal night lock up the doors.
On a charcoal night don't sleep on the floors.
On a charcaol night say good bye to those dear.
Because the charcaol night is finally hear.
poem by Okami Kamikaze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tried and Tested
My pencil holds a multitude
of varied possiblities.
Which I accept with gratitude
I grasp the opportunities
To write my thoughts in black and white
on any subject that I choose.
Expressing sorrow or delight
enabling me to share my views
With other poets on the net.
Who also share their thoughts with me
although in fact we have not met.
The common bond is poetry.
I am old fashioned proud to use
The simplest of technology.
A pencil is the tool I choose
it helps my thoughts flow easily.
I don’t compose on my P.C.
Though I suppose I should learn to.
I’d rather scribble happily
in pencil as I usually do.
24/06/2009
http: //.blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Number 2 Pencil
We used to use a number2 pencil
to write down words we knew.
Then we advanced to pen with ink
to write and when we were through
we'd look at what we wrote with pride
and lay the pen aside.
Now we e-mail people and chat.
Pencil and pen have died.
Kids still use a pencil in school
to practice penmanship.
But slowly as they leave that scene
they start to lose that grip.
They text each other with a frenzy.
It never seems to end.
They've lost touch with a number2 pencil
and rarely use a pen.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lesson in Perspective #1
Art students learn early on
what perspective means
by dint of practice
ONE POINT PERSPECTIVE
An imaginary vanishing point
on the horizon takes on life
as students draw vertical lines
angling toward a meeting
at some distant point
far off the drawing paper
TWO POINT PERSPECTIVE
Pencil and straight edge
suffice as students put
pencil to paper drawing
cylinders in square boxes
like skeletons in coffins
floating on white sheets
STILL LIFE HOMEWORK
Lesson ends as students
are assigned to draw
a study done in pen
and india ink
of three cylinders
transformed into creamer,
cup and coffee pitcher
nestled together
in a still life
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Home And Love
sweetie swishy doggie
a meowing cat
black as charcoal
under a rickety house
spraying elephant
its trunk perpendicular
to its bulbous head
tiger and all the lines
that spread like reeds
bright red apple,
golden banana
a child's exaggerated world
that outshines ours
blazes through ours
mom and dad
in crazy crayon
where their lips
are bright red as chillies
faces palsy yellow
with tiny white blurry space
that one smoothens
skiing the crayon
over the white paper
the family's theatre
opens immediately
as boy's burst of art is complete
mom and dad
colour their own
home sweet home
- injecting life into all son's caricatures
good or bad with sweet rhymes
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the Lead
My pencil’s charged with poetry.
It can write verses fluidly
and inscribe them on the sheet
in rhyme and perfect metric feet.
It’s such a simple artefact
but filled with magic that’s a fact.
A pristine page is quite enough
to make my pencil do it’s stuff.
My pad, my pencil and my muse
can’t see a challenge and refuse
A blank page they can’t bear to see.
That why I’m writing poetry
I have a pad I have a pen
which forces me to write again.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shades of Gray
She’s smart, she reads
listens to Bach and Debussy
she’s beautiful
but she’s obscene
got a circle of friends
who care, can draw and blend
well with graphite
pencil
But no matter the circumstances
no matter the enhancements
her life makes
she lets herself be selfish
feel a little worthless
cause she knows one day she’ll end,
cause she knows nothing lasts forever
that’s aside the point
It is what it is, and it is
that she’s not what she seems
she seems to think of she in vain-seeming
ways, seen in the mirror
as ragged seams
made to look pretty, glittery,
faking it all in glory
(or maybe faking the faking,
being
fake times two, three, for attention?)
she’s seen but greedy
and needs more.
Maybe she’s in love
with depression,
self-infliction,
too confused to see the infection
gnawing at her without detection
just causing
her to make no sense at all
poem by Shelby Barker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lead Pencil Reflections
Lead on O graphite lead.
Explain your thoughts to me
As on the paper we
Dance on, dot, dash ahead.
Pencil to paper wed
Eternally may free
New versions constantly –
Creations scarcely read?
In moments, trammels shed,
Life sparkles inwardly,
Poetic harmony
Line after line is fed
As on thought waves we’re sped.
Yet with sense, form, in key
Enlightenment we see
Responding, sharing spread...
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Red Pencil
Red Pencil
R ed pencil with magic flair
E nrichment while in school
D ancing red marks are everywhere
Red pencil; teachers’ tool
Red pencil marks, to make it right
I studied hard with all my might
Red pencil marks
Red pencil marks
I passed the test to my delight
P encil red is the teachers’ tool
E dified magic wand
N ebulous to the Golden Rule
C lassroom and teacher bond
I want to teach, want to be free
L ife as a teacher, that’s for me
I want to teach
I want to teach
Some day I’ll teach, Form Poetry
Red pencil, with magic flair
I studied hard in school
I’m now a teacher; answered prayer
Red pencil is my tool
I’m a teacher, I live my dream
Teaching poetry to the extreme
I’m a teacher
I’m a teacher
And my red pencil is supreme
Author Notes:
Acrostic Trijan Refrain
Trijan Refrain
The Trijan Refrain, created by Jan Turner, consists of three 9-line stanzas, for a total of 27 lines. Line 1 is the same in all three stanzas, although a variation of the form is not to repeat the same line at the beginning of each stanza. In other words, the beginning line of each stanza can be different. The first four syllables of line 5 in each stanza are repeated as the double-refrain for lines 7 and 8. The Trijan Refrain is a rhyming poem with a set meter and rhyme scheme as follows:
Rhyme scheme: a/b/a/b/c/c/d, d refrain of first 4 words of line five /c
Meter: 8/6/8/6/8/8/4,4 refrain/8
source: shadowpoetry.com
poem by Amera Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When you write down your ideas you automatically focus your full attention on them. Few if any of us can write one thought and think another at the same time. Thus a pencil and paper make excellent concentration tools.
quote by Michael LeBoeuf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Pencil
In between young fingers pale as the blank page
lays the writer’s wand
incantations completely foreign to the prophet, to whom this transformed timber employs
a wise old oak buried inside out
graphite earth at its core
body stuffed with earth, instead of earth stuffed with body
the gaudy yellow exterior
forever dressed wrong for one’s own funeral
a murdered wise and ancient entity
ripped apart by carless metallic hands
on endless assembly lines
this pencil-
Creator of things.
A god of its own.
doesn’t suit me
forced words require a tool more artificial
I trade it for a keyboard.
Camera vs, Pencil
Exactly same and true
Picture of objects wonderful
The magical instrument
Captures the real image
But real things become still
Logics, camera can't fill
Images, camera only captures
Pencil gives birth to a picture
The sketches drawn by pencil
Speak and make you feel
Not only liveliness of the object
But compels one too, to interpret
Camera can't take image of soul
Pencil draws sketch of in and out
camera and pencil's combination
can fetch reality, feel and imagination
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Until film is just as easily accessible as a pen or pencil, then it's not completely an art form. In painting you can just pick up a piece of chalk, a stick or whatever. In sculpture you can get a rock. Writing you just need a pencil and paper. Film has been a very elitist medium. It costs so much money. It doesn't allow everyone who wants to tell stories tell stories. The great storytellers however are going to rise to the top, no matter what.
quote by Forest Whitaker
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
On Seeing Him Draw
Paper and pencil
And a blue-purple alma
Full, full and fragment.
Light grey
Same old spray;
Shadowed fainter on paper
That's your you,
Red-purple-blue;
Line, curve, angle
Depth
Depth
Depth.
Slumbering at solitude artery,
Taxied through limb and
Organ. Finally rising to
Centre Brain,
Motor neurones ringing,
Electerrific velocities,
Coursing down his fingers,
Transferring, jumping
Straightly down graphite spine
And singes white notes
To blackened blades
That slice back
To His Him.
poem by Mark Challenger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Inspired by Issa - morning charcoal fire
morning charcoal fire
excitements of the new day
in the fiery sparks
morning charcoal fire
embers' sparks spread
excitements for the new day
morning charcoal fire
sparks greet and give
way to the new day
morning charcoal fire
first the sparks
then the warm new day
inspired by
morning's charcoal fire-
the mountain's pine breeze
wafting by
-Issa,1813
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ballad Of ‘Memo’ Roy
For JoAnn
Who in conversation inspired this little ditty.
This is the Ballad of ‘Memo’ Roy
the fastest memos in the world.
Roy writes a memo every minute
just to remind himself what to do.
He even writes one to tell himself
he must visit the loo.
It all started many years ago
when the doctor told Roy
he was suffering from
short-term memory loss.
Now he writes memos
to remind himself to write a memo
for everything he must do.
He writes one late at night
to remind him
to get up in the morning
and one in the morning
to remind him to go to bed at night.
It is estimated he writes
quite a few hundred memos everyday.
His house is filed with little bits
of yellow paper stuck up here and there.
He couldn’t watch TV
even if he wanted to.
There are s many memos on it
you can’t see the screen.
One day his pen ran out
and no memos he could write.
He couldn’t even write a memo
to remind himself to buy a pen.
Then he found a pencil
and shouted that will do.
Now he is able to write memos to himself
to tell himself what to do.
As far as I know,
he hasn’t written a memo
to remind himself to sharpen
the pencil once and a while.
28 February 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Charcoal
Charcoal is an impure substance
Called bone-black.
Of the animals is this charcoal
And we ascertain longevity
By heating the way of life.
Upon its character we find no smoke or flame,
Merely the rigidity of a fireplace,
Hotter than relics or artifacts.
Burning one way and another.
Burning again, like charcoal.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You draw beautifully with your pencil
You draw beautifully with your pencil,
sketches of almost any flower and plant,
things that are alive and some things that are dead
even a woman giving birth
on the beach.
You draw beautifully with your pencil
on a table are slices of bread
with a hungry dog on the other side;
things that are alive and some things that are dead,
there are children that are wasting away from starvation
and a woman’s hand with a wedding band.
You draw beautifully with your pencil,
a sounding level going down a well
being held by a strong male hand.
Things that are alive and some things that are dead,
you sketch and sometimes it’s any thing valuable;
even people in love on a tropical island
and you draw beautifully with your pencil
things that are alive and some things that are dead.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!