Poetry Has Lost Its Pen

Blank is the paper for which I write
I write with a pen no more
You penned this well they say
But all I see is a blank piece of paper

In front of me
My pen has plenty of ink to write
Now they will say you compute this well
The well is empty of ink unless you need to print

Push a button then all shall see
My pen is a computer and not me
The written word no longer has flare
It has formatting and syllable checking

The pen is no longer there we have lost
Our Pen and Flare
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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Theraven Avatar
July 10, 2019 at 9:23 AM
Bobby, I like this poem. I miss inkwells. You can't dip ponytails in ink-less keyboard hijinks.
Marcum Wong Avatar
May 18, 2019 at 12:13 AM
I still compose my poetry by had first, before typing it on the computer. The computer does make life easier tho. I enjoyed this Bobby. I hope you are well? xxoo
Wolf Avatar
April 1, 2019 at 9:32 AM
This is even better the second time around. It resonates more too! (soupmail). Blessings, Gershon
La France Avatar
March 13, 2019 at 12:20 PM
Bobby, so true, but I am one of those odd poets who still write my poem in a journal first before I start hitting the keyboard. I carry my journal everywhere just in case inspiration strikes, but I do not use a pen, but a pencil, I call it my magic pencil cause it can erase !
Wolf Avatar
March 10, 2019 at 8:48 PM
Love the title,...and lament the loss. Well-said, my friend. ~ Gershon
Proxenos Avatar
March 8, 2019 at 12:33 PM
Hi Bobby, never a truer word spoken - writing with a pen has become a thing of the past, although I must admit I always carry a notebook with me. Great write, Poetry hugs, Jennifer.
Krutsinger Avatar
March 8, 2019 at 6:57 AM
I hand write almost every poem first unless I am sitting at the typewriter and Trixie my muse takes over. She likes typing best. This is how I know whether it is me or Trixie doing the creating.
Allison Avatar
March 7, 2019 at 4:13 PM
Got my finger poised Bobby just need it to meet with my muse!:-) hugs Jan xx
Cunningham Avatar
March 7, 2019 at 8:11 AM
Youre right Bobby, my finger is my pen now. Tom.
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