
The landscapes of the face possess
And repossess my hand. Even still
It’s on the move: peak, fissure, defile;
Shadow here, just there a vegetation,
A blink, a snout, a rumination —
Fondest barbarism captured yet!
The face solicits pen and ink to nail the stink,
Charcoal, lead for testimony to the blink,
Pigment for the snout. And done. Peace out.
(c) 2026 JMN — EthicalDative. All rights reserved
I like this poem, JMN.
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The raw topography of the human face. Great stuff.
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Thanks for reading and for your appreciation, Josie!
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Wonderful work Jim – poem and drawing. You are on a roll I think!
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Thanks, Sue. I appreciate your remarks greatly.
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