I believe more in the scissors than I do in the pencil.
quote by Truman Capote
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Pencil Rain
The possible dream
Finale of seem
The moment that some call eternal that some call insane
Now helmets on each head awaiting the first lead
The pageant is named the pencil rain
The infantry stands
And holds out its hands
The marshals binoculars focus and skyward they train
Theyre searching the yonder blue
They look out for number two
The heraldry of the pencil rain
And now hear the roar that none can ignore
The thunderous clatter of splintering wood and lives that are claimed
And none who have witnessed all
Can think of a nobler cause than perishing in the pencil rain
The pencil rain
The pencil rain
The pencil rain
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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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
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A computer does not substitute for judgment any more than a pencil substitutes for literacy. But writing without a pencil is no particular advantage.
quote by Robert McNamara
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Scissor's Story
there was once a boy
who is afraid of scissors
and the scissors keep on
threatening him,
until one day when the boy
gained strength to face
that scissor and
he tied it with a string
on his neck and
paraded it on the streets
of the town
his thumb was cut
and blood dripped along the
path
towards his self-gained
freedom
and then he laughed
as the scissor gets too sharp
for the pleasure of
his neck
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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The Discontented Manicure Scissors
Said the manicure scissors one day,
'The shears always have their own way,
And I think it absurd
That I am deterred
From entering into life's fray.
My task might be jolly for snails,
But I must confess that it fails
To give pleasure to me;
I am sick as can be
Of snipping the ends of pink nails.
I want to do work like the shears!'
So the scissors set out it appears,
And very much wroth
They tried to cut cloth,
And so split themselves open, my dears.
And the cloth, well you should have seen that;
It looked as if gnawed by a rat.
Now little folks, you
Must not think you can do
Whatever your elders are at.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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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
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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
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The Pencil
I finished my Homework
Late last night
Feeling sleepy,
Did not do it Right.
I threw My Pencil
Away from my desk,
Finishing my homework
For the sake of completing it.
I was sleepy
But I knew
Something happened…
I din-no
Whether the brain of
That wooden guy got awakened
But My PENCIL!
Just woke up
It looked a bit funny
It came near me,
Looking rather Angry
With its short weak legs
Ha! Ha! Ha!
But tripped on my scale…
I giggled…
It looked up at me,
VERY FURIOUS!
With a dirty look of revenge
Chased me all over
I ran to the bedroom
The pencil still chasing me..
I hid under the blanket
Stayed there for a while
And later peeped outside
I heard a strange noise,
Which tempted me to glance again
I looked up
To my amazement did I Discover
My PENCIL!
Ha! Ha! Ha!
He was snoring..
He was of course tired…
A long poem was it indeed
Shh! Now U!
NO NOISE!
You'd disturb him
He'd then wake up
And Jump on my nose…
His fierce face still threatens me..
Just finish the Poem
Move away
REAL QUIET
Aww..
Goodnight
poem by Rishi Kaashyap
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Camera pencil combination
Camera and pencil's combination
fetch reality, feel and imagination
The sketches drawn by pencil
speak and make you feel -
Not only liveliness of the object
but compels one too, to interpret.
The added message through sketch
is like you educate an illiterate.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Drawing Pencil
If anybody is here to claim this
Drawing pencil please come forward.
I am not able to draw anything
In this pencil being obsessed.
If anybody is here to claim this
World please come forward.
I am unable to stay here still
In any position as commanded.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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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
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Your Pencil
Sharpen your pencil and let me use it,
For the righteous works of some people are clearly evident;
But those thst are otherwise cannot be hidden.
Sharpen your pencil according to the promise of life,
And like a tree planted by the waters of love;
For the sins of others are ahead of them while,
The sins of others trail behind them.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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They're Noticing
I sit
An average day
I roll my arm over
He notices first
What happened to your arm?
I look at the cuts
That are freshly there
Nothing my cat attacked me
I say
He smiles and turns back around
But it's not my cat's fault
It's my fault
I made the cuts
With my old scissors
Next, She notices them
What happened?
I look at my arm
With the healing scars
Nothing, My cat
She smiles and laughs
I smile a little, too
But that poor cat
Taking the blame
When it's really me
And my scissors
Then, She tells me
You need to put your cuts
Some place else
People are noticing
Your cover is falling
Your cat won't last forever
I nod and cry
She tries to help
But what can she do
To make me stop
They're noticing, Darling
They're noticing
poem by Alyssa Ray
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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
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Cutting edge
Like a sharp knife
cutting through a bitter lemon
into red lips dripping
the hairdresser takes my pleasantries,
chops them with a cruel hand,
throws them back in pieces in my face
snip snip into blond hair, brown hair, black, grey, white,
what heroic restraint, condemned
to a lifetime’s cutting, and not
to plunge the scissors into a spinal cord…
this little girl who cut her finger with
her mother’s scissors perhaps
to try to explain how they cut her heart
her love that would grow like hair
how can I know the heart
of this woman who cuts my hair
so expertly.. snip, snip..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Pen With Pencil
Rough edges of the pen shrill my mouth of the month,
Amalgamation of a product worth competing for;
The foreign enemy resides in the clung pencil,
As straight sides of the square clamber into shapes
We have pride in, deciding and consisting offerings
We simply defy.
This month the morbid death defends the tongue
And the throat for its worthiness.
A pen engages with the pencil to make progress
And hint at victory.
poem by Naveed Akram
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0030 Your 'My Life' exercise book...
Buy a child's red-covered
'My Exercise Book'
like the one you bought
all those years ago
to build a bridge -
now you realise -
a warm reassuring bridge
between school and home
with its firm hand-rail
at both ends;
the river flowing so fast,
so powerful,
so beautiful
between those different banks
in the blank pages
of that book with its reassuring tables
on the back cover which speak of laws
which you may never read
then with the sharpened pencil
and the smell of cedar flakes
faling from the pencil-sharpener
sweet and haunting to your nose
and breathing heavier now
in this exciting, daunting task,
your head nearer the paper
than old schoolteachers would approve
and pencil gripped as firmly
as you would your life
write so carefully on the first white page
as if the beginning holds the whole story
intended but as yet unfurled,
'My Life'..
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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