Skip to main content

Poems From the Porch 63

John is a poet and short fiction writer who enjoys collaborating on stories with other writers, and partaking in challenges.

A sculptor at work: Image by Ana Krach from Pixabay

A sculptor at work: Image by Ana Krach from Pixabay

Artistic Expression

The overriding theme in this week's collection of poems is "art." From pencils, crayons, and whittling wood to poetry they all have some connection to "artistic expression." Well, the only one that doesn't is the poem about stars but, saying that, many artists, musicians and writers have used the stars for inspiration, so maybe even that is connected.

Most of us have at least one form of art that we are skilled in, admire, or at least have an interest in as a hobby. For many here, it is writing but many of you would have other talents as well. For me, it is poetry, writing in general, and sketching. I can't play a musical instrument to help myself.

Please, let me know your hidden artistic talents in the comments. Also. I need more prompts and suggestions for future poems. This edition of Poems From the Porch brings me to the end of my list of suggestions, so to keep the series chugging along, don't be shy, give me your ideas.

Now, let's sit back and enjoy this week's requested poems.

How about writing something about the Stars in the night sky?

— Brenda Arledge

Stars and lovers: Image by Mihai Paraschiv from Pixabay

Stars and lovers: Image by Mihai Paraschiv from Pixabay

Stars in the Night Sky

Gaze at the stars in the night sky,

untouchable by you and I.

We can’t see planets such as Mars,

just a million twinkling stars.

Falling stars may catch attention,

but wishes made I will not mention,

on a sun that’s light years gone

although its sparkle lingers on.

Scroll to Continue

Are there life-forms out there beyond

this sphere called Earth, where we belong?

We will probably never know

as long as the stars keep their glow.

So, you're running low on prompts. Let's see..... How about writing about a box of crayons? I'm thinking about how the tangible sparks the intangible: emotions, creativity, etc. But, your muse is on fire, so I look forward to which direction she takes you!

— Shauna L Bowling

Pastel Crayons: Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

Pastel Crayons: Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

A Box of Crayons

A humble box of crayons

vivid colours housed within,

sits upon the artist’s desk.

The box made from battered tin.

Masterpieces have emerged

from the cylinders of wax.

Colours vivid, deep, and rich

when the canvas is attacked.

Red and orange, blue and yellow

pastels slashed across the page,

by the artist’s expert hands.

In control at every stage.

A work of art’s created

by crayons combined with skill.

In a hundred years from now

art critics will praise it still.


Here are some crazy topics for you.

Sharpening pencils

Whittling wood

— Peggy Woods

Sharpening Pencils ~ Limerick 1

I was busily sharpening pencils

to use in conjunction with stencils

but the pencils kept breaking

and my poor heart kept aching

so I ate a big bowl of lentils.

Sharpening pencils: Image by Luisella Planeta Leoni from Pixabay

Sharpening pencils: Image by Luisella Planeta Leoni from Pixabay

Whittling Wood ~ A Limerick 2

He whittled wood all night and day,

he couldn't put his whittling tools away.

But whittling wood got boring fast

and so to give his life a blast

he gave it up and now sculpts clay.

By the way, John have you ever thought on writing a poem on yourself as a poet? How would you describe yourself as a poet? What makes you tick as a gifted poet?

— Ravi Rajan

Writing necessities: Image by Edar from Pixabay

Writing necessities: Image by Edar from Pixabay

It's All About Me - Oh No!

As a toddler, I liked all books that rhymed,

Dr Seuss was there at my bedtime.

I began to sketch and draw cartoons,

from the time man first walked on the Moon.

I remember "anthology" books from school

and always thought writing poetry was cool.

Combining poems with bits of art,

the two pursuits that grabbed my heart.

I read Poe, Shelley, Frost and Keats,

Later poetry from the Beat.

Aussie poets "Banjo" Patterson,

and Henry Lawson, quite a larrikin.

Over time that passion waned,

as I grew and my life changed.

Graduated, began career,

Much partying and drinking beer.

Forget the sketching and the poems,

Job promotions, moving homes.

Getting married, raising kids,

Artistic expression hit the skids.

Image by cocoparisienne from Pixabay

Image by cocoparisienne from Pixabay

Then one day my desire returned,

within my heart embers still burned.

So, I began to write once more

about the things life had in store.

I'd observe people on the train

as I rode to work and home again.