Nib

The mind
In the nib
Of the pen
Is the light
Switched on,
The wire
In electrical flood,
The synapse of seeing
Open eyed
And transposing
Ideas
Directly
In ink

As if
Their true form
Were black marks
Made upon the page

And not images
Wrapped in similes
And metaphors
Translating the link.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015

Siblings In Mind

For all of us
Who write
There is kinship
In the pen
And a pleasing
Camaraderie of spirit.

Yet such
Are the plethora
Of minds
That being this
Is like belonging
To a wide
And diverse continent.

The best
Is when understanding
Traverses time
And space,
And a bond
Of likeness
Joins

In selfness
Expressed:
Like looking in to the mirror
And seeing the real
Familiar
Of a brother
Or a sister,
Newly found.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015