Monday, November 19, 2012

while


a shirt
a dark white shirt
with a breast pocket
and a pen

not just any pen
a fountain pen
given as a gift
on my 1st death anniversary

it was black
shiny like ceramic

and the tip
the tip was silver
the tip of the cap
and the tip
at the bottom

it caught light beautifully
and threw out words

its fuel
was ink
regardless of the colour

on ink it fed
and satisfied my hunger
by the words it threw out

my breast pocket
and the pen
its best friend
always together
did fantasy trips together
chased dreams
lost causes
sulked and moaned
and roared
together

one day
one dull
bright 
saturday afternoon

both of them
high on life
decided to give it up
decided to give it all up

are you done
the pocket
asked the pen
i think so
replied the pen

you
asked the pen
me too
said the pocket

but can we please
do it together
hand in hand

wouldn't imagine
it any other way
one of them asked
both replied

so then
the pen
nestled in the pocket
and bled
silently bled dry

the pocket
which was the colour
of a dark white
was the colour 
of the pen's insides

absorbing all the pen 
had to give
giving itself up
as it did

and then it was all quiet
still
serene

and i saw them
from a distance
on a bright dull
saturday afternoon

a sad smile
the within me

and me
without

played out 
by a pen and a pocket

when would it be my turn
i thought

within replied
with a hand on my heart
in a while
my friend
in a short while