Tag Archive: paper


Typewriter

Old and worn

Feeling tired

It has witnessed many writings

Many changes 

Many stories

It is old

And it holds so many memories 

Letter

When was the last ti!e you wrote a letter?

To ask anything, like if someone was feeling better.

Can you still recall the last letter you wrote?

I wonder….

Writing Poetry

What good is a pen without a paper?
Much like a lover and a hater
They both need each other
And in some ways must come together

What is a poet without a poem?
No reason to rhyme at all
None at all

Maria Michaela

Paper Thin

I don’t see myself that way

And I refuse to do so

To undermine myself

To hate myself

To think that won’t be lovable unless

Or I’d only be accepted until

To kill myself slowly

Just to be a size zero

I can’t

I won’t

And I refuse to be pushed to do so

To think so

I hold the key

to imagination, a whirl wind of non-existent things

I move from one end of the world

and appear at the other side

 

I hold the key

pen and paper on hand

I open the doorway

make way for imagination!

The Affair

the pen and the paper

like coffee and pie

are great when they’re together

just like you and I

 

when the ink turns to words

it’s such a symphony

so breathtaking

it often over powers me

 

young was I when I first met you

looking at it now

I see an excellent view

 

I’m in love with writing

and I’m sure it feels the same

So I’ll continue this affair,

this fun little game

Inked

I bathe in black liquid, my head was fully soaked
my body was stiff — rigid, as the grip was held tight
the paper, solid white and blank, is now
littered with graffiti of handwriting
strokes, curves, dots – separated by spaces in between
what was thought of is now being written
 
I dive into that ooze of black liquid
as once again, another line, another word
needs to be written
smoothly I glide over the paper
as the writer does his job
writing in solid long-hand — beautifully written
 
I go into that bottle with the black liquid
once, twice…I lost count
yet I can’t complain as
the mark I leave behind, is as beautiful as a summer’s day

My Stubonr (stubborn) Pen

my pen does not know how to write.

it keeps spelling words wrongly, ugh….I meant incorrectly

and has a bad taste for grammar, (see what I mean?)

it does not write when I want to,

it just stares blankly at the paper.

“Write something, come on, write something”, I keep teling (telling) it

but no matter what I do, it won’t budge.

and when it finally wants to write,

it…blah bla blobs…writes nonsense, as what you’ve just seen

my pen is crazy, I think it’s possessed

it’s supposed to ooze with idea, yet it’s the reason why I’m having a writer’s block

I have a lot of ideas, but my pen just won’t right….hmmmm, write

I’m not sure if you can call this a poem

I’ll write better once my pen functions properly

 

stubborn pen!

Pages

Rough, old, battered and bruised

Crumpled, scratched and sometimes misused

Written, erased……forgotten by time

Going down in history, a mountainous climb

Beat up, worn out and torn apart

Mend it or break it, it’s written from the heart

The truth and the lies

All written in the pages of life

Crumpled Paper

a crumpled paper lay still underneath the table

thrown away hastily as the spur of the moment,

idea comes to mind

it may appear to be nothing now

it will be nothing but trash right after

however insignificant it may seem

the greatest idea

the greatest story

the greatest literature

was made out of it

Words from a Little Person

Poets bleed from the heart and soul

singlesincebirthblog

The single speaks her mind

GOD'S POETIC CHILD!!!

Dear Reader, I am here to give you a little taste of poetry with some water on the side. When you come on my blog that's all that you will taste is Poetry. Not the type of poetry where it doesn't have a meaning. The type of poetry where you will be inspired, uplifted and you will have a different mindset once you leave this site. You might even come to get a taste of this poetry again. Don't be afraid to let your kids read this blog. My poetry is for and to help the youth. Bring them along with you. You both are scrolling down your phone or on the computer anyway. Let's have fun and get a taste of some poetry. I promise this type of poetry tastes delicious. Grab a plate and a fork and I'll feed you. ENJOY!!!!

johncoyote

Poetry, story and real life.

RED GLADIOLA

Fiction & Poetry Journal of T. Wong