deepundergroundpoetry.com
Eulogy for a Pen
trembling, i reach for my tethered worn quill
let there be precious little ink left before it turns as ice,still.
soothing is the music born, when paper is touched by its loving tip
a symphony instantly created
its melody starts yet another dance
the flow of thoughts eagerly rush forward
aimlessly spill on this empty canvass
a feeble effort to reflect the shy gems in my head
their allure fast fading as they settle on this new bed
Alas! the letters grow thin
one by one gradually get dim
last attempt
i cradle my quill and try to will it to resuscitate
my silent prayers take no flight
this infirmity has yet to dimish your might
unfinished words left to dance and sway haphazardly in mid air
neither nestled comfortably in my head, nor splayed lazily on a page
Oh mighty pen breathe
Oh please do breathe in some air
one more sweet journey with me do fare
ink fully frozen now
quill chapped and parched dry
i lay down my friend
this widowed paper lays unfinished in front of his casket
let there be precious little ink left before it turns as ice,still.
soothing is the music born, when paper is touched by its loving tip
a symphony instantly created
its melody starts yet another dance
the flow of thoughts eagerly rush forward
aimlessly spill on this empty canvass
a feeble effort to reflect the shy gems in my head
their allure fast fading as they settle on this new bed
Alas! the letters grow thin
one by one gradually get dim
last attempt
i cradle my quill and try to will it to resuscitate
my silent prayers take no flight
this infirmity has yet to dimish your might
unfinished words left to dance and sway haphazardly in mid air
neither nestled comfortably in my head, nor splayed lazily on a page
Oh mighty pen breathe
Oh please do breathe in some air
one more sweet journey with me do fare
ink fully frozen now
quill chapped and parched dry
i lay down my friend
this widowed paper lays unfinished in front of his casket
Published 23rd Sep 2011
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
23rd Sep 2011 4:46am
Nice poem. I really liked the start. hate to be a critic lol. but i feel as if the poem has really nice flow just waiting to be brought out. but at the same time you seem to forgo this flow for out of place couplets here and there. if you set a nice pace with your words. you barely have to rhyme at all. and the words that rhyme can easily flow with one another from the opposite sides of a verse. just a thought from an ass.
23rd Sep 2011 5:28am
thanx for ur input, i agree i tend to go off course when i write. i'll keep that in mind for next time
i did specify 'honest critique' for a reason ;)
i did specify 'honest critique' for a reason ;)
Anonymous
- Edited 13th Sep 2018 6:45am
10th Oct 2011 8:44am
<< post removed >>
12th Oct 2011 2:19am
