The flourish of the pen—what a phantasmagoria. The pen is semen scattering the fields with fertility. It takes time for it to harvest and blossom. During times of difficulties, the pen is a stoic ornament, a virtuous shield masking the persona of the writer. The pen in meditation is a pen wanting to pounce on the prey. Pen is the architect of the universe of words. The pen is a ritual undertaking in art. Behind the pen lies the philosophical self. The pen crafts philosophical fiction. Ideas are a painting of words. The pen is shelter in the lonely, desert walk of life. The pen has made me walk in green pastures. The pen is a Hellenic Beast. The pen symbolizes the tin drum of Gunter Grass. The pen creates an ideal emotion and feeling. The pen is a carpenter with a chisel who fine tunes wood into furniture. The pen is loyal and obedient to God Jehovah Jesus. The pen has done the ritual of poetic music and has flowered the muse. The pen is a lover of art. Everything the pen does begins with a line and ends in a circle. What is a circle asks the pen? Pen replies to itself: ‘it is a joy of art in writing’. The pen has veil of feeling. The pen absorbs the past, lives in the present with ode of praise for the future. The pen is a weighing balance whose weight the pen does not know. Pen loves the semen wetting the earth. The pen is a sheer voice of eloquent poetry. The pen is a prolific artist of passion. What is written once cannot be taken back. The pen is a joy, a surprise brought out from the musings of the unconscious. The pen is making a curve, a passage of peace and refuge. The pen extracts dialogues from an underground valley. The pen is a hill atop a valley. The pen is a pilgrim in the journey of the desert. The pen can only contemplate eternity but can never calculate it. The pen meditates on ecstasy. The pen has never spent a night in a brothel. The pen is authorial and has got multiple selves. The pen is a Grecian Urn an architecture of aestheticism. The pen is green as grass and red as the sun. The feelings of the pen give a joyous shout. The pen is a flowing brook. The pen woos the writer to become an acrobat. The pen bears the charm of meaning. The pen has been through many disappointments but every time has woken up with the motto: ‘keep trying never give up’. The pen is wine drunk with joy. The pen is the feast of the eyes. The pen is a moody instrument of sorrow. The pen is a joy kindling the heart. The pen is in love with waltz of spring. The pen works wonder with the soul. The pen is an incantation praising God Jehovah Jesus. The pen adorns the paper with sweet memories.
Anand Bose 2 Minutes
Published by Anand Bose
I am a Hellenic Philistine driven by the mad pursuit of aestheticism, an existential nihilist and post modern deconstructionist. I am also a Christian Apologist. View all posts by Anand Bose