Ode to a Pen

A river flows through this pen.

Dull, plasticky, dog-chewed, a dirty shade of gray.

It is so ordinary in appearance,

one might say

it could be missed

as one does the pole star

on a typical night.

 

And then.

It decides to construct an alphabet.

 

These constellations

-some call them words,

meet in deep watery privacy

and build stories

history is too small

to record.

 

Yet.

The pen remembers.

The ties and lies

of them that we loved

and them that we lost.

The consumed stale bread,

the overflowing bins of the well fed.

The smell of earth drenched in rain,

the puzzled look of parting- was it pain? 

The wild laughter of the seventy year old man

hugging the son he thought were dead.

That exact point

when the plot changed.

 

The dull, plasticky pen

knows some truths.

At times,

persons’ plunge down with a flame.

Perhaps, to sift

these truths in the river bed.

 

The other day, brother,

you got a letter.

It came from this pen.

Strangely, you asked for an email.

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15 thoughts on “Ode to a Pen

    • Its wonderful that you liked the poem! My pieces are mostly about one-to-one relationships, and I have never written about the very important topics that you have requested for your site. Thanks for thinking of me though!

  1. I remember a poem I wrote once while daydreaming in class, where my lonely blue BIC ran away with a lovely pink fine tip…. I still have a really hard time composing anything on a keyboard…. but as I get older, even I can’t read my handwriting! I really enjoyed this poem, and hope that you find something enriching on my blog as well. I especially enjoyed the last stanza of this poem, with it’s punchline of “Strangely, you asked for an email.” There’s a certain romance to letter writing that seems to have been lost by quick, instant emails…
    Thanks for this!

  2. hey thanks for liking my blog post–you’re my first like!! i love this poem, i look forward to reading more 🙂

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