Friday, 15 January 2010

Ink Stain

Dear Friends,

A new year has started, a new decade has dawned. We are now enjoying either the cold Winter of the North, or the hot Summer of the South. As for myself, I am now in the Southern Hemisphere, following the warm weather, like I have in the last couple of years.
I will share with you a poem I wrote while flying Alitalia towards Barcelona, in June 2009, and suddenly became aware my pen had burst with the pressure.
Chilled ice lemon tea is suggested, in these unbearable Southern climates.


An ink stain
While flying over the Atlantic.
The pressure
Made the ink go pop.
Stained finger
As I try to scribble
In a tidy manner
Avoiding a possible mess.

Pen swells.
It’s a fine needlepoint.
Couldn’t handle the altitude
Of the skies beyond the clouds.

It glides softly however,
Nestled in my expert grip.
Years of practice have skilled
The touch of my crooked fingers.

Soaring through the Ocean,
Still five thousand miles to go.
Nobody yet here knows
Which way it may be home.

Mitsubishi Pencil Co.
Maybe Japanese pens
Aren’t too fond of flying after all.



  1. Es evidente que ni la altitud ni el fallo de la lapicera ni esos deditos manchados pueden confabular contra tu musa inspiradora.

    Besos hermosa y me encanta tener que traducirte vale siempre el esfuerzo.

  2. My! Thank you very much Winter Heaven...

    Lux querido! Gracias por tus hermosas palabras de aliento!


Tell me, darling...

Add to Technorati Favorites