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Quotes about sketch, page 7

Drawing A River

when you draw a river
the river begins
to draw also a fish
the fish shall
sketch a moss
the moss
paints the missing
green

then you have what
your river wants
a place where you
want to
ponder about a sky

come to think again
now draw
a very white sky
take a pen and a very
wide paper....

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Someone Greater Than Us

we raise hopes we make dreams we weave stories
we, who were long loveless
we draw fairies, we paint sunrises, we sketch daffodils
in those frosty days, all these warmth sustain us
until this day, we strive to fill this empty cup
when someone greater than us could have filled it with ease.

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Artistic Minds Eye Licks Ephemeral Lives

word paintings chalk colour canvas
many seen portraits landscapes themes
sketch line hues shapes faint etchings
envisage whole salient gift split images

whale songs echo cross world oceans
minds eye licks pulse ephemeral lives
dive depths plunge wet living life waters
currents ocean waves seal mirror horizons

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To a Painting of Echo

Foolish artist, why must you sketch my face
And hound a goddess eyes cannot detect?
I am the daughter born of Speech and Space,
Babble's mother, a voiceless intellect.
I snatch a word before it disappears
Then mimic mindlessly what I have found.
I am Echo--I live within your ears.
If you believe you can paint me, paint sound.

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Why

Why poets are shy.
Shylock what's in a name.
Why do they then cry
from Yawning Depths
to Wuthering Heights.

Why do they pointy-late
in consonants and footnotes
and sketch an unsaid Why.

Rilke steered my mares,
Vroman turned me in his cell
and Komrij protected my shell.

But What I needed
Was carefully heeded
in urges to mystify.

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Preface

A Sunset, lovers sketch drawings on the beach
waves come and wash.
It's the common love story of the world.
Waves never get a rest
even the Sun on his careless journey
and Moon cries with agony.
She runs with someone new
for a better future.
The old lover sings alone in his dreamland.
Still nobody realize that they are two
and not one.

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Trees to Prize

Listen to the prize of effort that is present
For the roads of right are in speed
And really my grass has been trodden
To perfect the trees that have grown
Like the sketch of an artist on the wall.

Into the road runs the vehicle that loves,
Loving the velocity of my thought as well,
Like the well kept trees in bloom
In the season we call greater than each.

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No Complaint

A brown cloud descends
on charcoal sketch.
Moonstruck, a blast begins.

Marigold, beware:
sun is going to hide
behind the stings.

The fang penetrates deep,
in the breast
of sleeping pride.

A golden god
melts in the arms
of mercy.

The lips suck the blue poison
of the hymns.
The saint was a killer.

[...] Read more

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OPIUM (perfume)

This page on which I sketch my words
will hold the scent of me.
The powerful aroma of Opium
is my personal identity.
It seems to be the only perfume
that to me is allergy-free.

I've worn it now for many years.
I probably always will,
just a dab behind my ears
and never over-kill.
It seems to be my single vice
and is like a magic pill.
For it makes me feel so good.

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Apotheosis - 1967

Pandora's box long screened most hope
may open, offer endless scope,
mystery smile seems isotope
enchanting all.

Intelligence within a box
once keyed into internal locks
which magical life's luck unblocks,
heart heeding call.

For sensitivity within
flies free from care, flees free from sin
with promise full new maps begin
to sketch apotheosis.

(28 February 2010)

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