Ballpoint Poems

To new beginnings

ahhh... the crisp feel of the new notebook
its spine never cracked open
its pages of virgin white perfectly aligned
awaiting their marching orders
eager for all and any pen markings
from sunday best handwriting to doodles

inviting playful interaction
your creative élan of spontaneity
random thoughts splashed on a page
scripted lines scribbled to offload
a mind seeking clarity, peace or absolution
seeking a semblance of order
of profound clarity or silly mischief

one page then another
the daily journal of a busy mind
in search of something
through self-expression
hoping to find it between
the whites of pages 
and the ink of a ballpoint pen



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Ballerina

To twirl like a dancer upon paper,
And execute the swirling pirouettes,
One needs to keep a balance of the pen;
So step by step the stage is swept in strokes. 

Now left, now right, and two and four, the beat
Pulses, pulls the body up to the brink,
Draws back, recedes. Silent is the hall. Now, 

The ballpoint tip toeing the lines of ink,
Building momentum, movement towards

Climax — the bliss of literature achieved!

Shine Bright O' Golden Pen

 Shine Bright O' Golden Pen
 To Empower & Inspire The Masses Of Men,
 Burn Ever Luminous & Blaze As The Sun
 And Let Thy Ballpoint Scintillate Like The Chosen One,
 Fill Thy Longhand With Prestine Manuscripts
 To Great Endeavors That Shall Sail Afar Like Ocean Ships,
 Guide Thee To Depths Unknown
 When Many Are Lost & Have Lost All Hope,
 Illuminate Thy Ink Scrolls For All Of Time
 With Knowledge & Wisdom & Light Divine,
 Oscillate The Great Duality That Always Was
 And Let It Transcend Through The Sword That Descends From Above,
 Infuse Thee With Essence As An Emerald Stone
 So I Shall Articulate These Jasmine & Fiery Poems

PEN

PEN

At first, it was just another pen
A ballpoint, as is called by some
Not one in that old clear plastic
But shiny metal, looking fantastic
A present, as fancy as they come
Quite the classy image back then

That silvery glint in my top pocket
And a perfect weight in my hand
I used it for all my college work
And if ever I lost it, I’d go berserk 
All avid students will understand
It was my thing, so don’t mock it

Over time, it became my identity
Still as the messenger of my writing 
My signature in places I had to sign
Unique, clearly to know it was mine
Then creative stuff became exciting
On the page, words flowed rapidly

I replaced the refills, always black
In my life it was a solid workhorse 
I held it up to point, for emphasis
It was a poor performer’s nemesis
As detailed in my notes of course
A reliable instrument I’d never lack

From the first day that I was hired
I wielded that pen just like a sword
The barrel shone, the clip was strong
No smudging and never went wrong
Given a new gold pen by the Board 
A parting gift when we both retired

A Poet Prepares

Ballpoint pens or sharpened pencils,
Scads of pads of virgin papers,
These are the tools,
The base utensils,
This poet needs for his mental capers.
Thesaurus and dictionary close at hand,
A steaming mug on the chairside stand.
Prepared, I wait with anticipation…
What's keeping that muse
With the inspiration?

Gods Ink Blots

He really should use
a ballpoint pen
ink blots are hard to remove,
and they can mask our reality.
The blots form mysteriously
shaped smears and smudges
that conceal rather than reveal.

We who avidly read His works
are apt to badly misinterpret.
He should have learned to type,
or at least used a computer,
but no

and now all we have are
these mysterious word-puzzles
many of which
are half-hidden between
speculation and conjecture.

Once Your Fool

An April fool
twelve months out of the year.
And it’s been a full calendar year
without you in it.

Empty spaces 
take up my planner now.
Devoid of you and me
and all the plans 
that we made together.
You’re gone, and what’s left
is just empty spaces

Does your name lay 
along someone else’s 
planned-out days?
Is their planner
surrounded by hearts?
Or was that just mine?

Is it written forever
 in ballpoint pen?
Or carelessly penciled in
haphazardly
as a second thought?

Pencil means 
subject to change.
Is she just waiting 
to erase your name?
Waiting for something better,
someone better…
than you. 

Just remember 
my poor fellow fool,
I cared enough-- 
when you were mine…
to use 
permanent 
black 
ink.



Nearly two years ago, on April 1, 2021, I decided to try ’30 days of poetry.’ This was day one and the prompt was ‘Fool’ and this is what came of it.

Weapons

Martial Artist
draws ballpoint pen
weapon

Comparing the 1500s and Now

This year 2021 seems so very hard
with covid and all its limited implications
but it's worth comparing centuries before
five hundred years before was no celebration

In comparing all these 500 years ago
when it was a world so different from today
this was what Europe then was like
even U.S. hadn't been brought into play

During the 1500s there were no basics
no sewer system, central heating, water supply
refrigeration, antibiotics, penicillin or surgery
in our day not having these we would die

As well as no water heater or water
also, ballpoint pen, typewriter, pc was none
it beggars belief what life was like
life was harsh certainly not much fun

People in that day would've been so poor
struggling would have been a daily chore
so be thankful we're not still back then
despite covid we're still able to roar!

The Future of Technology and Diapers

The horse gave way to the car
  The boat gave way to the plane
The quill gave way to the ballpoint pen
  from Oklahoma to Ohio to Maine

Radio gave way to TV
  TV to the Internet Sreen
Yet radio's making a comeback now
  A pleasant surprise unforeseen

About one thing I'm sure, however
  There's no going back to cloth diapers and pins
Like today, tomorrow belongs to disposables
  ~ So as to get rid of manure-eating grins

10 Poems That Define Me

Ballpoint Bully ~ How I write.
Navel Gazing ~ How I think.
Hot Grey Matter ~ What turns me on.
UFO ~ What I believe.
Life Insurance ~ How I live.
Cut To The Wick ~ How I try.
Baby Birds ~ Why I cry.
Doll ~ I pulled a thread and let my stuffing out in this one.
Normally my mind's a meadow ~ My scariest poem to post. 
Chimney Swift ~ Just how much I love birds.

The Shaft of a Quill

This horny shaft of ruffled feathers
Is hollow and needs to be filled
This shaft has become a hard ballpoint pen

It needs secretion within parchment
It is filled with ink wanting to write
Without you I have writers block

I will glue your pages together
Placing my hard cover around you
I need to be in your table of Content

I will turn your pages over and over
I will never dog ear anyone's page but yours
My Quotes will be long and hard to understand
 
With each stroke of this pen thinking, then
Writing and filling this book from cover to cover
The Main Chapter and Verse

Is You, the most interesting book I have ever read

Disposables

A banana peel littering the sidewalk
  A candy wrapper lying carelessly on the parkway
An aluminum Coke can, crushed, by the side of the curb
  Cigarette butts scattered randomly on the pavement 

A plastic diaper stuffed into a trash container
  A ballpoint pen, squished, bleeding in the roadway 
A torn knitted glove abandoned on a park bench
  Sunflower seed shells strung along a sandy beachfront trail

A careless remark, tossed out haphazardly, devastating a reputation
  A promise broken, unintentionally, rattling around our soul
A lifetime of effort, squandered, forever unappreciated
  Love spurned, nonchalantly, rending our fragile heartstrings

Ballpoint

P-owerful writer
E-xcellently expresses
N-othing but the mind.

Form: Haikustic

Ballpoint Bully

The pen
is a sword
that slays

in skilled hands
it is a scalpel
that dissects

my own
however
is a blunt instrument

and it beats  the truth out of me

• Short Ballpoint Poems
• Famous Ballpoint Poems
• Best Ballpoint Poems
• Read Ballpoint Poems
• Long Ballpoint Poems
• Ballpoint Quotes