My Pen

by Douglas Cala

What defines my pen?

Is it the calligraphy that spills forth

from its inspiration?

Not just a writing implement

but a versatile piece of gadgetry

Able to synthesize thought without compromise

Requiring an able hand that hasn't

succumbed to its mortal coil

Geriatric shaking that might set in later

For now, it's formative, sturdy and the

preferred method of delivery

No return to sender

Emotions in a blender, once boxed in

but when I emote this able instrument

allows me to render them with precision

Topics percolate with pronunciation

Palpable predictions penetrate minds

Slathering the audience in nothing that's half-baked

or overcooked

It sizzles on the plate, ripe for them to eat

Nourishes the soul with furtive nutrients

cultivated by a daring wordsmith

If the ink dries, it can be replenished

If the point splinters, it can be swapped

for a new one to continue blazing its trail

As long as the vessel remains in tact

No impending structural damage

My signature, never strong-armed

My purpose is to be never meek

Averting crisis through catharsis

Crafting cautionary tales to share

that translates to performances instantly

arriving on the page

Memoirs of a promising sage