Short Nib Poems

nib
a streak
tiny dots
forming my words
pen...

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Dissecting the worms

finely with a nib of  pen

creeping long in mind...

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My pen stumbled over you!
Are you hurt baby?
The pen's nib is very sharp!...

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his pen left me struck,
that sharpened sarcastic nib...
tempered with humor...

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Flow and Ebb

Nib and Tuck

Never Ending

Cause and Affect

Friend or Foe
...

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reservoir feeds nib
voices of laugh, cry, death, life .......
liquid spirit speaks...

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That tepid tea, civility,
Is not the drink for such as me!
Thou cusp, thou nib, thou pricket, prickle, tang and tine!
Thy wit lacks width to grasp my line!
...

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Life is shining
                  from the nib of pen
                                             as meander graph of ink.



-October 04, 2018 Chattogram...

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Never deal in cents to lose your drip,
Watch and feel the legends and pay a trib.
Mighty sword bends by the force of nib,
Lost sight of the shore and winds left the ship....

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The other fantastic day,
I met my dear lovely friend,
A King of the Jungle
We hugged each other
Jasmine, the poet of crows was bushing
Her long black nib to write a honk style poem
Gag Gag Harsh Hug...

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The other fantastic day,
I met my dear lovely friend,
A King of the Jungle
We hugged each other
Jasmine, the poet of crows was bushing
Her long black nib to write a honk style poem
Gag Gag Harsh Hug...

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I have seen infinite rise from finite
As ink like sperms flow into hollow papers;
A universe comes into existence. I have seen life develop, 
When moment by moment the nib turns and swirls
Leaving a trail of cursives behind,
Soaked into tender eternity....

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Onanism 

The vehemence of sexual arousal 
Quest no gender
A critter owns the vehemence 
On the nib of sexual delirium 
Is solely,
Her and He own sexual pleasure 
Their elate melded with blood en route veins
Onanism brings a euphoric sense of freedom...

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Hatchery of Verses

Rainbow soaks the nib of pen
In the solitude of the den
Metaphors vie to escape shell 
In that wonderful virgin dell
Cultivate syntax, in that hour
In the secret, sovereign bower
Leis of verses propagate
With fragrance fill my plate...

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Vast blue cawing rife                                                                                                        
One pearl per nib clinch your prize                                                                               
Pen's of all feathers...

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tip toe
nib blue
rain thru
miss crow

hips know
sow hue
heat low
heart mow

name plate
same gate
night date
soul freight

bed late
mails hate
soul mate
less rate


mow mate
keep plate
out date
full bait

© MAHTAB BANGALEE
CHATTOGRAM
15/11/2022...

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A new kind of poet,
Rebaked and remoulded,
Penning by dreaming,
Prophetic nib,
Cautiously articulate
By visionary inspiration.
A new kind of poet,
Unrestrained by marauding lips.
A new kind of poet with 
Unremitting thought.



BY: CHARLES MELODY (LIGHTNING INK)....

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I've been working on it.
If I were a nib or stylus I'd be worn away.
Sometimes,
there's too much space to fill with words,
or there's not enough.
I'm digging my way out
of A Marriam-Webster dictionary.
when I surface,
I might be light-headed,
but a lot sharper....

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I've been working on it.
If I were a nib or stylus I'd be worn away.
Sometimes there's
too much space to fill with words,
sometimes there's not enough.
I'm digging my way out
of A Marriam-Webster dictionary.
I hope when I surface
I'll be empty-handed
but a lot sharper....

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Slept and slumbered under the quinine stains we wept,
On a poignant bard’s weary nib we slept.
Yearned we to spill  on to paper,
Him caged sore thoughts for later.
Weeping words we lay folded,
On table, heart moulded.
Sorrowed dirge lament,We repent,..................dissent ...

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A poem is a way,

A subtle , golden path-

From soul to the heart,

from heart to the head,

from head to the nerves,

from nerves to the blood,
 
from  blood to the  tips,

from tips to the nib, 

from nib to the paper and 

finally

from paper to the reader's soul

in the roundabout way.

Such is indeed a poem....

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A droplet of ink formed at nib of pen
I flung it swiftly, seeing it as waste.
Then theorized what it might have been
Had I not acted in such great haste.

An aborted word, or merely a smudge
That in my haste I'd neglected to blot.
Time elapsed, but my mind wouldn't budge
From that small unassuming black spot.
...

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i've sharpened
my pencil 
to a nib

i've bled all
the ink out
of my pen

kNOt just in
wORds of
chANteD

pOeMs
butt all
sew 

scene inn
tHE DOodlES
nEXt two yOUR

POEtry on tHE
pAGE as ewe
pose fOR a

PAIN'tINg
UP in my
lOFT 

wOuLD u
moove
yOUR

RYEt brEAST
a bIT SO as NOt
two shOW tEW

mUCH of WHat 
bred (L)OAfes 
YOU've GOt...

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Protracted Years
Written: by Tom Wright
6/18/2018

Protracted years have seen,
My days become scratchy, 
Like a cheap pen’s nib on a cardboard box,

And my thoughts are silent utterances,
Of developments long ago; 

Today, my sub conscious is plagued,
By besetting remembrances, as I jettison things,
And find no moments for retention;
...

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Scribo wished for a limerick

but then he crushed his writing stick

too much hard reason

ink went for treason

rhymes and rhythm became quite sick


with a bent nib in his firm grasp

mind and meaning loosened a clasp

he clawed back feeling

spinning free wheeling

filed senses with passionate rasp


27th February 2021


howmanysyllables.com...

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