THE PENCIL

Author: Raslan Abaji

The pencil on the table
Your face is in my mind
The way youre looking to me
Gave birth to the dead inside
Yet the pencil is silent
There is only the will
To draw the curves of your face
To feel your skin.

I saw you in my dreams.
It was so clear and pure.
And here you shine again.
The only dream I had
Is the one I shared with you.
The others I forgot,
The wind tarred them apart
And the dream lifted me up
Waked the artist inside.

The pencil kissed the paper
So tender and so sweet
Gave birth to those purest
Stars anyone will ever meet.
So charming and so warm
The pearls were dropping down
Giving life to those flowers,
Blossoming all around.
And on the paper it carved
The traces of your soul,
The wonders of your sorrow
The sweetness of your faith.

The pencil left the paper
Yet there is more to draw
No one should ever see it
But in our hearts we know
And on the edge of darkness
It was cold beside you
It was ever dead, yet
It lived for seeing you.
And on the paper its soul
Was poured, beneath your tears.
Yet on the paper it died,
long time ago.
Unknown "Bon Bon" Feisty - 16 years, 7 months, 29 days ago

The Drawing
by Mary E Rose

Setting aside all of her memories,

She drew him as she saw him in her mind.

A dark walker against the prison of night.

All sense of hope left so far behind.

A soft spray of hair that touches her neck

Wisped away by a breeze that reveals more.

Eyes bronzed by a soul that has outlived its time,

Light skinned, dark hair, and a fire in his core.

A master of his domain, she draws him.

Through each muscle and tendon; flesh and bone,

His essence has become more tangible.

A life from mind to paper has been sown.

The cool night air touches her racing heart;

The breath that takes him from block to her own.

Backing away, she senses his desire.

No daytime realities set the tone.

A gentle kiss and he bids her farewell,

Off to save those less fortunate than he.

A dark walker against the prison of night.

As the life she once knew begins to flee.

Behind her, memories of days gone by.

Flesh that fades into ink shadows her mind

As the wind blows against her existence

And her own creation becomes her kind.
Unknown "Bon Bon" Feisty - 16 years, 8 months ago

Paintbrush

I keep my paintbrush with me,
Wherever I may go,
In case I need to cover up,
So the real me doesn't show.

I'm so afraid to show me to you,
Afraid of what you'll do,
That you might laugh or say mean things,
I'm afraid I might lose you.
I'd like to remove all of my paint coats,
To show you the real, true me,
But I want you to try and understand,
I need you to accept what you see.

Now my coats are all stripped off,
I feel naked, bare and cold,
And if you still love me with all that you see,
You're my friend pure as gold.

I need to keep my paintbrush with me,
And hold it in my hand.
I want to keep it handy,
In case somebody doesn't understand.
So please protect me, my dear friend
And thanks for loving me true.
But I need to keep my paintbrush with me,
Until I love me too.
Unknown "Bon Bon" Feisty - 16 years, 8 months, 2 days ago

Art Poem
Shran Jones

Damn you art...

Your pulsating rhythm, your shape and form

the plasmatic coherent that converge on inanimate

objects making them something
different, like the light

catching spots as a shutter clicks or the pose of a

single syllable appears on a clear white sheet of paper.


Art entranced me, seduced me and made me want to dance

that forbidden dance that only few understand.

Hopefully one day I'll find someone with the same

intensity for the love of art and impassioned, we will be

as life imitates art and art imitates life and no distinction

is made between the two.

Oh why couldn't I be a pencil pusher

checking facts and dealing with
numbers in

a fun less unemotional setting for I no longer sleep.

Art calls me with a thought or image that must

be produced or become forever lost in the achieves

of memories.


I'll be the snake and art will be the charmer

until my last dog days are spent and art is what's

left behind so others would become completed

by its power.
Unknown "Bon Bon" Feisty - 16 years, 8 months, 4 days ago

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\new tale\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\
Unknown "Bon Bon" Feisty - 16 years, 8 months, 5 days ago