My pen pleads

My pen pleads Lonely nights offer moments of silence and one dish suppers where candlelight seems a waste Seated with pen in hand, I smooth the ruffles beneath as if that will help the words flow Upon closer inspection I find fancy patterns on the dining room tablecloth mimic the movements of my hand, layered one atop another, calling on each to oblige Crossing lines, intersecting at pre-destined points, repeating in harmony with one another as my thoughts gather in the opaque vastness of this rectangular parchment staring at me Moving in sync with swirling ridges on the corners and scribbled etchings along borders, the tip follows fantasies of a mind in a dream state, drawling each curve in my own random design Cartoonish figures joust with balloon dragons amidst the sunflower faces, some smiling, some not on cursive stems sprouting from geometric signals and sharp pointed periods ending ideas Fabric folds neatly collect the blotches of spilled ink seeping slowly through the cloth like raindrops on a leaf following the veins in an abstract yet confined flow To the blurred eye sits nonsense, a collection of nothing on a vast white sheet dancing like uneven feet on a rounded floor of no particular meaning or feature Yet to me, my penned doodling calls loudly, even in the darkness of lost words, these patterns, as is everything found filling me is her, and my pen pleads in heart shaped longings

Reviews

[Soren]

This poem bleeds with longing and pain. I feel the seconds slow like tar slowly inching its way along as it dries. Time seems to stand still and each rememberence evokes reflexive responses meaningless to others. A fixtion on a vacuous emptiness in the soul and a need for unity. Melancholy and a frozen mind drqwn on a blank sheet. Very emotional Will.

[willweb]

Thanks my friend. I am thrilled you found this and felt this.