Fountain Pens

Sometimes the dead do write back
little wisps of words
on the back of shopping lists,
a life noted, collated
figures neatly adding up
amidst peaches, not tinned
the dolphin friendly tuna,
balsamic for dipping,
those little loaves with almonds.
‘Remember me’ it says
‘I like the chocolate with chilli’.

In between the cleaning fluid
and remembering to collect
those little faces
that peer through the kindergarten gates.
A meeting at 2.00
and how to lose yourself in memories
of thoughts long embalmed
compelling you to write,
Be a pen pal of sorts
SWALK written and played
On ukulele strings.
Oh the dead to write back
in the unstuck corner
of a postage stamp
spider marks on lists you lost,
ingredients of life not bought
priceless and pure.
Monsters in the mundane,
lemon juice in fountain pens.

Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 681 times
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Written on 2017-04-30 at 15:21

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Well. Im resided gladly if how I felt the first time I heard NAna Simone singing the song Wild is the wind....she said......." ....kiss me, I hear the sound of mandolins..."

Whether that makes any sense to you, Im not sure but I'm sure in high respect for Nina....

Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
This text has been chosen to be featured on the home page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting it on our poetry website!

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Joe's right. The imagery is excellent.

josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
One of your best, Elle!

Christopher Fernie
Dear Elle,

I love the surreal imagery of this strangely reassuring piece. And the lemon juice in the fountain pen, to write with invisible ink, perhaps?

With very best wishes, as always.


Ivan R
The tone of it, the prose, the overall feel of the poem; superb.
Love this one.

ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!

Yes they do! I'm glad they do, loved this, it has both a serious side and a whimsical quality. Great line "ingredients of life not bought."