This poem is about a lowly object with the power to change the world.


I found it behind my ear,
Worn like an old-fashioned bookmaker,
Ready to lick into action,
Grey matter as sharp as a stilletto,
Wooden body short and stumpy,
Worn down by constant sharpening;
I was going to throw it away,
This little piece of ash and graphite
With its chewed end and flaked paint,
Faded as a shuttered seaside town in winter,
But what about those messages in waiting?
A defiant declaration from a prison cell,
A forgiving farewell from a hospital bed,
A simple 'I love you' on a postit note,
A long goodbye in a castaway bottle...
I wear that puny pencil like a talisman now,
A holy relic, part of a wooden ark or cross,
When I press it against paper, black blood
Oozes out and a miracle happens - humanity.

Chris Fernie, 2006

Poetry by Chris Fernie
Read 425 times
Written on 2006-08-22 at 22:49

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VERY strange and is quite quirky, and I like it:)