Best Pens Poems


Premium Member Potd Good Night,Poets of Gold Pens

     ~Poetesses and Poets, Divine~

All over this great planet we live,
Penning our thoughts, and love to give!

With our hearts, as lanterns so bright, 
Writing with hearts into this summer night.

Pen thee, then, of nature’s fine beauty.
Quietly, we are world Muses on duty.
 
Creations we form of happiness and sorrow.
Moonlight and dreams, on which to borrow!

A hug from me, now..close your eyes.
Tomorrow is both a gift and a surprise!

Hugs,
Panagiota Romios
California….USA 

                     8/15/2022
                       ~1~

Premium Member As Poets Prepare Their Pens

They hide behind mountains of ignorance, 
judging within a valley of selfish love.
Among weeds where flowers refuse to grow,
to the mercy of hypocrites -

only we can set them free.

As we poets prepare our pens,
in the ceremony of a new dawn,
let us flow like a million petals,
spreading peace through our fingertips,

because our hearts beat the same.

When they fire bullets at those already wounded,
let us swim within sapphire seas of serenity,
healing through the purity of compassion -

we can beat them at their own game.

As twilight signals a new dawn,
an abundance of colourful sparkles,
infiltrate silent stars, disturbing their reverie,
but the moon gazes in admiration,
as illuminations brighten horizons.

In hope of a beautiful new sunrise,
tomorow can be the first day 
to strum heavenly strings,
singing lullabies of peace.

Silent One
Simple Musing
01/01/2019

Hope everyone has a great start to 2019,
hope all your hopes, dreams and aspirations come true.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member To All the Pens I'Ve Lost Before

To all the pens I’ve lost before
That rolled off my desk and, on the floor
I’m glad they came along
I dedicate this song
To all the pens I’ve lost before

To all the pens I’ve once caressed
And may I say, I’ve held the best
For helping me to grow, I owe a lot I know
To all the pens I’ve lost before

Ideas in my mind were growing
And all those things I had to say 
Those things and thoughts my inward praying
Etched in pen with verse I’d play

To all the pens that gave words life
That helped express love to my wife
I’m glad you came along
I dedicate this song
To all the pens I’ve lost before

To all the pens that inspired me
That filled empty pages with fantasy
They live within my heart
Always playing an important part
For all the pens I’ve lost before

With the wisdom each pen was bestowing
They helped me find the right words to say
Inspiration steadily growing
Why did the best pens never stay

To all the pens I’ve lost before
That rolled off my desk and, on the floor
I’m glad they came along
I dedicate this song
To all the pens I’ve lost before

To all the pens I’ve held before
From you I could not ask for more
Yes, I’m glad you came along
Without you I couldn’t write my songs
To all the pens I’ve lost before.


A parody of Willie Nelson’s song, I hope you enjoy.


Premium Member Pens and Poems

Words and coffee, pens and poems
                             morning time I cherish
Perhaps to even leave behind
                          something when I perish 

Leaves and breeze, sun and shine
                           inspiration to be shared 
Words and coffee, pens and poems
         show the world that someone cared

Afternoons delight the page
                pens and poems, Winter writes
Sips of sherry stir my thoughts
                   turning Winter days to nights

Sandman, time for sleep again
                      find for me my clever Muse
For pens and poems, wake again
           with lovely thoughts that I can use

Premium Member Ode to all the Missing Pens

Where do all the pens go
that's what I wanna know

Did we give them to friends
who might keep them (depends)

Maybe burglars stole them
but not jewelry or gem

Or snagged by the goblins
scribbling with impish grins

They might move, we forget
--the final place it set

In a pile of papers
those inky escapers

Did they all take a hike
their pens' union on strike

Joined up with art supplies
--their artistic allies--

Hidden deep in the drawer
wishing to write no more

Check the desk! Check my purse
cuz nothing could be worse...

...than when a pen's needed
but they've all receded--

--to some faraway realm...
of untraceable whelm



(Inspired by Anne Frank's "Ode to my Fountain Pen")

Premium Member Blueberries

fresh picked blueberries
stimulate poetic pens ~
my muse just wants pie


Premium Member A Most Holy Vision Speaks In Mystical Tomes

A Most Holy Vision Speaks in Mystical Tomes

Enchanted colorful images shine ever-brightly from
a wild cosmic fire appearing high in the evening sky.

As people gaze upon these unusually radiant images
there is, at once, a universal sense of calm and peace.

Poets worldwide observing this most unique heavenly
occurrence seize their pens to record all that they see. 

As they begin to write what they see, it seems as though
their ink’s like a magical blood flowing through their pens.

As this sacred blood flows freely, the poets write with a 
palpable sense that an amazing grace moment is at hand.

The true essence of this divine moment starts as the poets
witness the appearance of God’s Angels in the evening sky.

The poets seek to understand these unbelievable events in 
real-time as they appear arrayed against the evening sky.

There’s an angelic message that now speaks fervently through
the wondrous magic of the poets’ pens—pensive and voiceless.

This holy missive canorously echoes visions from past lives,
whilst presenting highlights that speak vividly to future events.

With the past as prologue and the present now in real-time,
the angels’ missive of mankind’s future on Earth is positive.
 
As poets and other writers observe and record their notes, it’s
clear the cosmic fire is not the “End of Time” fire and brimstone.

Rather, it’s God’s way through his angels to capture mankind’s
attention and to refocus humanity’s efforts in service to others.

The holy missive makes clear that the path to redemption and
forgiveness lies within our own power as we seek to find God.

And that the angels shall always be with us as our souls ascend
heavenward one day on trails of cosmic dust to be one with God. 

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – November 26, 2018 (Couplet)

Premium Member O' Dear Poets, Let True Pens Dance

O' Dear Poets, Let True Pens Dance

O' dear poets, hold sweet and true to thy calls
Let not rejection's dark, lead hearts astray
Not into realms of drought stricken pitfalls
Nor in shallow vessels of weakened clay!

Stay dear poets, with kindness sent this sad world
Keen unto love, hope and mercy's great gifts
Pen to let magnificent words be hurled
In soul's fine music that cheers and uplifts!

O' dear poets, grace us with joyful heart's glee
Dance below moon's gleam cast lights thus given
For these gifts setting us apart and free
Bring us to gates of paradise liven'!

O' dear poets, buckle belts, greet all as friend
We are waves splashing hope until the end!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-05-2017

Sonnet
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words: 112

Premium Member Faith Let the Pens Flow

Trust in God they say,                                                                                                    do it everyday.                                                                                                              Read the word,                                                                                                              even if you have heard.                                                                                                     

Pass it on to others,                                                                                                      to all sisters and brothers.                                                                                              They say just be brave,                                                                                                  now take it to the grave.

Date Written: 6/15/2020                                                                                                      Let the Pens Flow - Rhyme Poetry Contest      (Faith in GOD)                                   Sponsored by: Jenish Somadas

Premium Member My Pen

In tears and sorrow
                                          it would be
                                      When I lay down
                                             my pen
                                       If never I could
                                         Cleanse my 
                                             heart 
                                       Through poetry 
                                             again
          

                                   'Bite Size Poem no.5'

Blazing Pens,Smoking Lungs

Dive into poetry,
Smoking a lot less,
Less smoke,free breathing,
Less stress on my chest,

Longer life,my health,
I know its for the best,
Although stopping is so hard,
So hard to digest,

Ink versus Smoke,
An internal test,
Who will be victorious,
In my contest......

Pencils, Pens, Crayons, and Markers

Pencils, pens, crayons, and markers
Makes me
An artist of the highest degree.
I can make the neatest tree
With a bird family using it as a new addressee.  
 It will have all sorts of flowers around it with
A hungry bee.
While I am still sitting on my knees
I can make a zoo in which I have the only key.
These animals are the likes of which no one
Will ever see.
My mom is laughing with glee
As she relaxes with her cup of tea.
She says " Come here my favorite artist who is
Only three
Sit next to me as we go on your zoo journey."
My mom had set my heart free
Now I was filled with lots of creativity.

Pens

Pens
Kill time;
Bleed out ink.
Through lines and curves,
With thoughts and crosses -
Shapes and ideas form,
Connections are made and shared,
Stories are allowed to grow tall
Paper and minds can be brightly filled
All because of eager pens killing time

Poets' Pens

Poets’ Pens

Wise words
drip-by-drip fall
like petals from roses
softly floating through young hearts to
paper.

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 19, 2010

Poetic form: Cinquain

Bad People Own Pens Too

While it is true the pen is mightier than the sword,
We must not forget that bad people own pens too.
You may have put away your sword but a war of words 
Is stiill being fought
So sharpen your wit and keep a good supply of pens
For when a counter argument is needed
To prevent just one side of the story being told
Lest some innocents get burned by the clever wording
From the pens of those up to no good.

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