The exercise:
I'm rather attached to the pen I write with, so I went and wrote it a poem. Go ahead and do an "ode to my pen", have fun with it!
Mine:
Oh my BIC Ultra Round Stic Grip,
How could I write with another?
You're home when you're in my fingers,
It's as if you're my twin brother!
I fear the day your ink runs dry-
What if that's where my thoughts reside?
My creativity will fade;
They'll say it began when you died.
2 comments:
Colour clicks contrasting views,
separating once harmonious hues,
as thoughts travel calmly,
in waves of blue,
that lengthen and stretch,
across this sea,
of words that stir,
and compose within me,
a rainbow-inked complexity,
of contextual text alive and free,
ever changing and growing,
through interaction with me,
-suddenly a turn-
inclination now green,
breezing along in lively pace,
no thoughts of the world,
only of this place,
i navigate now,
with my ink,
words rebellious,
some caution with dread,
i embolden this map,
with lines of red,
and when the colour runs dry,
all that is left,
is black.
I used to love using those multicolour pens.
I'd use one for writing but I know I'd just end up doodling with it every time I picked it up.
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