the Pen

An old poem of mine. This is for every pen we use. And dictate terms to.

the Pen

 

The point of all beginning,

All existence, all meaning

 

See him draw pathways,

And tiles, sometimes mountains

And render pain

 

Watch him scathe, the fluidity

Of his own face

 

Everyone employs him to

create origins, of his rivers

And tributaries from the busy stroke

Of a dictator nib

 

His holiday is a mere full stop,

Days are a calendar of curves, in a week of commas,

An exclamation is the brief laughter

Reverberating through a blackened ribcage of sentences.

 

See him fly all your kites

In the form of lines

And different strings

Of selected imagination

 

the Pen is the servant of an unpredictable scratch.

Author's Note

I wrote this when I was sixteen, about two years ago. So please, pardon my immaturity.

Reviews

[Miss Coral]

Personally, I really enjoyed this piece-- I think that while the flow could use some work, the imagery was quite good, and overall the writing was great. And, I don't think that the fact that you were sixteen when you wrote this means it's immature. (Though I may be just a tad bias, being sixteen myself) :P

Great piece!

[Gomer LePoet]

I see no immatuity here whatsoever. actually shows depth to me. the pen is the servant. good job.

[Jenny Nelson]

I find this very clever and a great observation. Very nice! Great description.

[Annette Jay Sweeney]

I don't think it's immature. You have a very deep grasp for imagery, and seem to have had a handle on it then. I really enjoyed this piece. It would be worth re-working. I think the best way to rework it is to maybe try working with the stanzas and lines, maybe changing the capitalization at the beginning of the lines, etc.

[deeps]

His holiday is a mere full stop,
Days are a calendar of curves, in a week of commas,
An exclamation is the brief laughter
Reverberating through a blackened ribcage of sentences.

I love these words here.
I like this write it was written wonderful.

[Haifa]

It is nice poem, you did a great job in this poem. Well done

[Brokensoul]

Oh puhlezz do not beg for anything. I simple loved the pun and the imagery, the sardonic prose telling a truth that people barely fathom. I love you for this one...