Nibs Poems | Examples

Description Diatribe

Description, O my diatribe?
Stand before the court!
O comedians, with thy jibe!
Paragraphs to sort!

Where is hope on gallows hill?
Couldn't be real sure.
Yellow priestess, queen until?
Revelation tour.

Humble as a humbug?
Pride raises high the pain.
Dancers, rhythm! Cut a rug!
Doom is to disdain!

Death, thy destiny. Live free.
Placards of the plea.
O ye angels, come for tea!
Demons, how about ye?

Tyrant of deep waters?
Alliance Black Abyss.
Daughters, commit slaughters!
No one we will miss!

Rivers, needing rivets?
O lampreys, rub thy ribs.
Deadly are such divots!
Just nibble on the nibs!

Unify the endless hordes?
Bid them sharpen swords!
Watercress, thy water boards!
Mother Sin, thy gourds...

BLUE MOUSE GROUP

BLUE MOUSE GROUP
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The blue mouse group wrote through the night,
with their tiny nibs and ink, what a sight!
     They scribbled and scrawled,
     'Til on the stairs they sprawled,
They collapsed, what a comical fright!

Pagliacci

Of course, a clown
is always clowning
as poets paint their write -- 
before with pen and ink

dip we nibs wells of performance

transforming dark ink
to colorful spectacle in showtime
spot of light -- like the pancake 

our many harlequins, 

like Arora, a rainbow
after cloudburst
real tears or daisy squirt?

we apply our big-top makeup

to cover-up and hide

otherwise unmanageable crowds

of deeply incised hurt --

Sea Glass

The Sea Glass Fifth Aquarius,
a glass menagerie,
as their bios serenade us,
sea views anemone.

I swarm betwixt a Sea of Glass,
a can of worms opened,
we dove had fluttered peace a chance,
debate and hook defend.

Dolphins parlayed high nibs false skies,
the Sea Glass crample them,
their dimpled snout closer to eyes,
in blues abyss, they swam.

Little shop around four corners,
the which is of Sea Glass,
Stew astir perpendiculars,
Suze, Miche, Cher, picturesque.

Sea Glass, Scottish accents; you rain,
ode Yellow River,
shove all our rights tad off the lane,
bowl poetry Super.

Timeserving Times

Learning to write with those quills first
Then, in fountain pens, immersed
Ballpoints are the best; they advertise
Computer writings, now, immortalize
My quill in a nook stands as a humble servant.
My once-favourite pens remain with their nibs bent.
As a friend in one's poverty, forgotten when one grows rich
Has modernity made a void within artistry's niche?

diamonds

Flying across the white expanse
a dull day becomes coloured 
with the distant foggy 
black marks of flight
opening wings wide 
like a murder of beaks
thirsty for the blood 
of the ink of others 
on their blunt dry nibs, 
it ruffles their feathers
colourful for a short while
between the lines
of a vacant pride, the 
worthless worthiness 
of removing veils 
from other brides,
Faust flapping crows 
disguised as angels
come calling like 
unclaimed friends 
from all quarters, then,
curious bluebirds 
dissecting their purpose,
discover something 
shining and beautiful 
found in the dirt
between the cavities 
in all their walls,
behind the ugliness,
jewels like Ariadne
(writer not myth)
possessing 
the opposite title 
held to the mirror -
"he ventures she wins",
are fished out
and discarded
in the swirling ice,
cubed in the depths 
of a dark well 
like unclaimed
diamonds,
solid gems, waiting 
amidst all those other
melting treasures
to be, or not to be,
found







Candide Diderot. ‘24

Mb Stanza-01

Mahtab the full name
Stanza formed in chain
Syllabic
Rhyming mix

Mahtab Bangalee
It has fourteen keys 
Stanza keeps
Two wise nibs 

Come, come to write this
Sixteen accents please 
Five twice times
Three twice times 


©Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
01/01/2023

Seeking Meaning

on fibers coarse
	with little clay
nibs are stained
	with indigo ink

lines of cursive
	carefully formed
seeking meaning
	to come forth

chrome plated steel
	and laminate wood
plastics cast
	a cage formed

aligned in rows
	of boys and girls
trying to find
	what to know

classroom did form
	a prison dark
locked out the sound
	of the Muses song

warm air to flow
	through wildflowers bright
bees there to hum
	and birds take flight

castles to float
	on scented breeze
grasses to tickle
	bare running feet

through glass so hard
	that kept at bay
what could be seen
	but a world away

beyond the confines
	of what was taught
forms that did constrict
	the youthful mind

beauty unseen
	did fill the thoughts
where wonder did dance
	of what might be

blackboards of chalk
	filled with empty words
to teach of things
	that were not sought

with quills of ink
	in cursive words
seeking the meaning
	of the unknown

Distance

Yes, I didn’t come here; I didn’t touch this soft body
I didn’t consume the wine where you were sleepy
It’s a long grassy lawn; splendid roof of the violet sky
Where the bed of roses kissed the bared lusty eyes
Long; for long time of my absence made all over void
Before the presence of me heard scattered annoyed 

No chariot of knowledge crossed   your scandalous lips
Dripping of bloody ink watered your roots of the nibs
I was not dead but lost everything on the planet of youth
As delirious now the footsteps find out the vagrant booth
Burned stars slough off on the door-sill of derelict poet 
No classical singer comes to celebrate the letter of duet

Where you are living there I’m living also as the voice of song
The slippy tongue kills our harmony living without sturdy bone

© Mahtab Bangalee
27 January, 2022
Chattogram

Now Dead

The mothers of blessings
now, are dead

No honey in the buds
No money in the pockets
No gracefulness in the flying-
glow-worms of full moon night
butterflies of May-days 

The goddesses of blessings
now, are dead

The cacophony of city vehicles are alive
The quays of the port are busy with nibs
The lives of concrete are gorgeous at night
The slumdogs are dying in the hungry fight

The fathers of blessings
now, are dead

There have only complaints without solutions
Productivity forgets the equity, equality motions
Abundance of good advice find not good doer
Shoutings of alas; alas; alas are everywhere

The gods of blessings
now, are dead
 
The Department head said I have nothing to do for you
The Head of the corporate branch asked- here, are you new?
Chairman of the business firm suggested resigning from job
I'm the worker, nothing have to do, everywhere I'm chopped



© Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
28.06.2021

Childhood Memories

FORTIES CHILD

Freezing slides
     on sheets of ice
Balaclavsa snug
Finger mitts
     snow-balling bold,
Playtime in the cold.

Satchels,desks 
       with lift-up lids
Pen nibs 
       & inkwells
Five-stones conkers 
               in the yard
before
      the lesson bell

repost from 2007

My Collection Reflects Me

My obsession with writing implements is getting out of hand,
while not quite turning out as planned. I’m still without
that vintage Montblanc, but I’m saving a place in my cabinet
for it, right in the middle where it’ll really shine.

a good pen is 
necessary for writing
rivers of ink

I collect all sorts of pens, varieties of nibs allow me to create poetry and illustrate it too; it allows me to create universes. With the ink, I am in flow. 

the power of
the fountain pen
creating worlds

My pride is a toss-up between Parker Blue Diamonds and Esterbrooks; if they don’t glide like silk across the page
my creativity stalls.  What is given to me, echoes through my soul.

the rivers that flow
from my soul onto the page
channeled scenes


3-24-2021
ALL YOURS (Mar 26) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand

Verse Freed To Couplet

YESTERDAYS

Inkwells in desks with lift-uplids
Tables written out with old pen nibs

Noses pressed flat on the window glass
our pockets tinkling ,full of brass

Exploring fields across the brook
studying in nature's real time book

Fishing for minnows with jar and net
oftimes slipping and getting wet

Winding brooklets filling narrow streams
into rivers of childhood dreams

Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2008

The Porter's Terms

The Porter’s terms
Are highly irregular today
It’s Theo Chocolate nibs
Playing the stark domme fuhrer role
Submitting this docile subject
Into crazed tyranny
Only appreciated by the gullet
Impatiently waiting for its helping
Scores of thieves
Affixed in parallel thoughts
And steely fortitude
Look to match the ABV
Doled out like welfare noodles
With invigoration and words
Caught at each fourth interval
Symphonies breaking among
Someone’s cerebral cortex
As a Marley descendant triggers
Our descent into somewhere wonderful
And nowhere in particular.

(2/25/18)

Maybe Spring Is Finally Here

Baby buds sprang up last night
All over my verdant yard
Lilac buds, lambs ear, red bud tree buds too
Little nibs and nubs of green in every hue

The wind chimes are going crazy
And some of my spinners are twinkling clear
Seventy-five degrees today, 
Maybe spring is finally here?

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