Pen Poems - Poems about Pen

When my heart sings, I write it down. When pain brings me to tears, when my soul cries out for release, I write my hopes and fears. Maybe its bad, maybe its profound; it doesn't matter to me. It matters just to write it here; to make what isn't, be. Is it more true on this...

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The fountain pen ran off giggling and lost his pants Leaving a string of letters, none of them seemed by chance How dare he think he can write? Said my non-amused muse angry enough to give him some really mean reviews He’s just a pen, a one-trick pony! Blue and plastic, common, bony! The pen came back to hear my thoughts I’ve...

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Hand trembles above, Ink waits, a demanding flow, Words must find their shape. ©bfa042425 ...

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I place my pen so painfully on the page Ink stains so sinister Too dark for the heart to feel over again And over again And again I feel my heart launch inside my throat Choking me Breath which used to come to easily Thoughts once produced so placidly So readily Fade suddenly Fog...

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"I love night, because at night, I don’t have to be someone— Running codes with syntax and logic. At night, I can be what I’ve always longed to be— A poet, And weave all the magic with my pen. Night feels so much like me... Dark, silent, with a cold breeze, Peaceful—silencing every noise, And alive, hearing only my heart’s voice. During the day, I...

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What you don't know about writing is that it doesn't know you, until the two of you are willing to stew a mess of your own - brewing your blood's greatest enigmas right down to its own bone marrow - why not say hello, at least?...

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She was well-versed in writing, With words which touches the heart more than the pierce of a nose ring, Her characters are bold, With a nature both haughty and cold. Elizabeth did find her Darcy at last, Though she did not explore him much, Like finding a piece of creamy cake after hours of fast, And finding someone who is one such! She...

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Embezzlement or error.? To jail.? Or maybe never.? One is Now heading the I M F thats sure clear.' The other awaits Her fate I now hear.? Judging by the position of her peer Here.. What will the E U? and court dish out.? Well its un-clear.! I don't think she'll get the same carriage lagarde did.' The gravy Train...

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What is poetry but harnessing the thing of grace that's most dear to us and crave most to embrace What is poetry but expressions of the heart when lovers suffer from being torn apart What is poetry but the voice of pain the undertaking that keeps you sane What is poetry but outright fascination born from godlike power of creation AP: Honorable Mention...

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Ink bleeds, heart takes flight, Words weave worlds from silent thought, Soul's echo remains. ©bfa032325 ...

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writing is my life & breath I live to write poetry and creating is my soul to take my skill away I will weep & die for I must write poetry my pen drips blood if I should die will my words die or will they live on that is a poets dream and one must...

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Within the deep inner workings of the mind, perhaps, failure held at bay,... reveals a masterpiece unwritten" ...

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They think they’re Keats and Frost of time, Some pen-pushers are frost in time. All they pen, not but passing rhyme, Is set sail, a big boast in time, Which, all of self-promoted stuff Gathers black and white dust in time. Let some prayers be said for them: Their footprints last on coast in time. Heart wishes well, head less than least, I...

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I remember that day clearly even though it was 37 years ago- I was off on a new adventure because I had just moved into the dorm for my freshman year of college but I had no idea how my life was going to change in a very simple moment I went to the student center to pick up my schedule and register...

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I'm Not a Poet I'm just a boy with ink-stained fingers, A canvas of paper, and a mind that lingers In the shadows of doubt, where words lose their way And the silence screams louder, with each passing day My words are but whispers, lost in the wind Doodles and scribbles, with no rhyme or reason within I search for a melody,...

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