Short Pen And Ink Poems
Short Pen And Ink Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Pen And Ink by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Pen And Ink by length and keyword.
Chance the work of man
Necessity a work for you
Paper and cloth
Pen and ink
Needle and thread
dancing with them.
Strings of nighttime’s crystal roll
Where pen and ink drain mashed scroll
Till bubbles pop—-lines console!
Triad In 7 Beats
Contest: Nette Onclaud Feb 22/2017
Happy birthday, Noli Reyes,
Friends make phone calls using the Skype;
My pen and ink want to express
Warm greeting in poetry type.
Topic: Birthday of Noli Reyes (March 21)
Will write a Limerick I think
Sought out some paper pen and ink
By the time I did this
My words had gone amiss
Guess memory is on the blink
Penned 10 June 2017
One day I stopped to think
Just how bad life would stink
If someone took away my pen and ink
I could scratch a verse in the sand
But wave and tides would erase that plan
Leaving me a lonely man
The Art of Peace
Drawing lines that join two sides with arches sketching pen and ink perspectives.
7-10-22
Contest: The Art of Peace
Sponsor: John Lawless
Syllables checked with www.howmanysyllables
Started out in a bank as a bookkeeper and teller
Pen and ink was used to enter in the daily ledger
Ballpoints weren't around
Their secret wasn't found
Till a few years later, it became a top seller
A pen and ink within my hand
The music of my soul
A rush of wind in sacred boughs
The place I loose control
Of distant lands, of golden hills
And not a soul but I
Hidden by the light of man
I see through crystal eyes
My puter is broke
This is no joke
My window to the world is blackened and closed
My wallet is broke
This is no joke
My ability to fix my window is froze
My optimism is not broke
This allows me to joke
My creativity still flows through pen and ink
("Lone Pine", 2024, original pen and ink with encaustic mat)
Manzanita
Manzanita
atop a slight rise
forms a natural shrine
The place a person
could place an offering
or say a prayer
The place a meditator
would sit
and become a buddha
(9/30/91)
A moment between heaven
and earth
wrapped in angel hair
twinkly starlight
muted
wondering . . .
gifted so with uncommon perception
from above
heart left there
on poetic earth without care
oh master of pen and ink
do you blink
D-awn eighteenth February
O-pens the day with light;
M-orn early Saturday
I-s setting things aright.
N-ight cold chilling rain
I-s nowhere in view;
C-oal clouds have disappeared into the dark, gray, and blue.
L-et your pen and ink
A-im to meet the paper;
R-ight words are arranged,
A-s you write a long letter.
("In the Beginning There Was the Word and the Word Was Good", 2019, original pen and ink)
Borderline
I’m only borderline
Dabbling in
Mental instability
A fan at first
Opening a portal
Eventually possessed
In my own way
To create
And create and create
But on the border
Is only mediocre
(11/18/23)
("Juniper in Lost Forest", 2022, orignal pen and ink)
Lost and Found
To simply sit is enough
rain or shine, bright or dull
it doesn’t matter.
To simply sit
in this moment just as it is
nothing is gained
but everything lost.
And when you’re done?
Why, everything is right
where you left it.
(8/20/23)
(“Honeybee on Apple Blossom”, 2020, original pen and ink)
Homing Bees
Up before dawn
To bring home the bees,
Last evening’s swarm
So full and feisty,
And nestled in
Their new hive
They seem contented
Distracted and without concern
That in the end
They have only
Travelled a few feet
From their old home.
(7/3/25)
(“Citadel of Light Merit Badge”, 2016, original pen and ink)
The Birth of Light
Spirit and flesh
Two in one
Are the definition
Of beauty itself
For apart they are inert
While together there is dance
And where there is dance
There is joy
And freedom
And the discharge
Of something the mystics
Fondly call light.
(11/4/24)
strange how the day shuts down, suddenly bleak,
as when the dawn crested three-quarters past six.
cumbersome eyelids befriend pen and ink —
outline of skinny trees, lack of stars,
hush’d homes — fig leaves do not hide them.
visible neighbors smoking chimneys.
the sooted smell of winterscape
as she falls fast asleep.
12/18/2019
Every step made with anticipation,
Words written with hope ,
Dreams dreamt under the stars ,
Words articulated with care .
The pen and ink all witnesses,
The paper the great bearer of truth,
The walls saw in silence -
As the future got laid on white paper.
Dreaming is good ,
Having hope is sweet,
Plans make the future seen ,
But failure comes unannounced
I never ever thought you’d see,
the likes of all these words,
but now you’ve seen,
and that worries
me.
Because what’s between,
beyond pen and ink,
is a state of glee;
but beyond this all,
is an escapee.
So now you’ve seen my philosophy
which hath your mind undone.
Now mind so clean,
you see the sun,
above the open sea.
And so I say to thee,
please just let me be.
A poem for a day
That's what I give away
If I simply don't write
It means something isn't right
Coz I love my art
That's where I fix my heart
Each time I spill the ink
That's when I'm happy I think
If I couldn't sleep
Don't give me a drip
Get me pen and ink
I'll sleep and not blink
While I sleep a wink
My heart still always think
Of what poem that day
Should I give away?
A dedicated and loyal soul
Kind, finding time to edify, seek
Those kindred hearts who fan the hot coals
Into the flames of poetry which leak
Like embers, wild sparks from pen and ink
Standing for truth, for justice invests
In other poets to bring happiness
Above all faithful, candid and fair
Humbly shares his talent possessed
Always taking time to show that he cares
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 --
When dawn's light is drawn from the moon
And morning dew arrives in the afternoon
When willows rejoice instead of weeping
And promises are no longer worth keeping
When artists paint only in dull shades of gray
And stars abandon the realm of the Milky Way
When a pen and ink no longer can I find
When love is a word that can be defined
That will be the moment when I stop loving you
And my heart forever dwell in a world of blue
Wondrous poems are melodies
Emancipated from live trees
Freed at last from trunk and limb
Freed at last to sing their hymn
Transplanted in the hearts they've torn
Transplanted by the poets they've borne
Echo in our hearts as rhyme
Echo through the sands of time
Written down with pen and ink
That all,
That would,
Might stop and think
How wondrous a poem can be
That's written deep within a tree
I see the dotted lines
The never ending road
A long twisted ribbon of pain
It leads me away from you
I see the dotted lines
Like a paint by number artist
Trying desperately to cover
Knowing it will never do
I hate the dotted lines
They penetrate my head
Like bullets in the rain
Distance can’t deny
I sign the dotted lines
The summation of our love
Wiped away by pen and ink
As we say goodbye