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Plastic magic Pen..

Plastic magic Pen…..

I once had a plastic magic pen,
that sought the stories of heroes
way back when.
Each hero was to be of a different
breed, it would be good if all you
Poets, writer’s would take heed. .

This pen was interested in gathering
their stories, and writing them into
the futures glories.
He needed to find men and women
who’d been brave, even if they were
now in their grave.

The past was the first place he would
start to look, so of to the library I was
sent for a history book.
This book had to be from writers honest
and true, so much the better if they were
by heroes we knew.

He didn’t want to find any kind of
contradiction, under no circumstances
would he dwell in the realm of fiction.
These heroes would be known to the
ordinary man, it could even be a friend
called Sally, Alfred or Stan?

So to all my fellow poet’s I’ll say this
and then be quiet, I’ll not preach to long
in case you want to go try it. But the next
time your sitting, standing, or whatever, and
the words you’re scribing, typing don’t feel
all that clever.
Just look around your desk,room or even
on the floor, look for that plastic pen you
don’t like to use and mostly ignore.

This may be my pen on his travels once again,
along with the honest endeavour every poet
writer must attain. Use him wisely and I’m
sure you’ll find him to be great, at finding
the stories in your head that sometimes irritate.

Those story poems we sometimes find stuck
in our head. Needing only the proper pen
or paper, that we may spread.
Lines verses paragraphs for us to read,
hoping that the rest of the world may
find a need.
And perhaps the pen may find
a hero in ourselves, as into the dreams
and thoughts of the poet he then delves.
That strange half chewed instrument of
words to the page, that has been with man
forever and an age.
It’s not his fault he’s made of plastic not gold,
or that he’s laying around your house or office
getting old.
I’m sure if you use him by electric, even day
or candle light, he may find you a hero or even
just a story you can write.
That will help get you through your longest
day or darkest night.
So I urge you my friends pick up that plastic
pen, and let your imagination in the form of
words, take flight.

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dragged me in. Then the rhyme pattern kept me. [There wasn't any]. The advice that you imparted made it all worth-while. I still keep paper, pens and notebooks to jot down ideas that may suddenly strike. I know that as suddenly as they appear, they may disappear; forgotten, swept aside in the detrius of the day and thrown out with half-formed, not quite ready thoughts. Thanks for the reminder to stop and record those little things that might otherwise slip away. ~ Gee

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Thank you Gee good to read your comments, the rhyme is there, patterns don't get much attention from me anymore. I love just writting what comes out, rhyming if and when i can. tahnks again, Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

author comment

our new pens are all fingers and thumbs
like shorthand
and cut paste stick on emojis
like cereal surprises
crackerjack joy
fb friends and texts like invisible
ink....pop sixties painting balloon words
our diaries of the modern like coffee
book lounging sipping cafe americano

I had Parker am going to buy
another Parker Pen
these things are up to twelve dollars now
from france...fancy france
my daughter loves them....I gave her
my old ones when she visited
i find them perfect for sketching on
writing....they are zippos
i buy and lose...treasures to find
I let them have one at a meeting
and I believe its still part of the
evening bric a brac....a red barrelled
one....ended up just using typewriters
and now its the computers
i like that people here were recording
their would be like reading
the poetry in handwriting..what i love
about the book stores...rock lyrics
on the auto and biographies
many use pens to record much of
the workings of life...the needed drudge
almost in code my notepads of notes
save if lost it saves whom im writing about
and myself from too much profile..
too faded dulled to be of any use to the
sharp minded

brilliant poems
thank U Roscoe!


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