Two Writing Exercises

Before the Ballpoint
When I was young,
I filled my pen,
From a bottle,
On the school desk.

And when I wrote,
The metal nib,
Splattered the ink,
Across the page.

In the Workshop
Sometimes it feels like all I do is file,
(Not folders into draws and paper cuts)
But hour on hour of standing by the vice,
The careful push and pull of metal teeth.

The rhythmic rasping of the file becomes
Like gentle snores that tempt me into sleep
But still alert, I keep on with my task.
Sometimes it feels like all I do is file.

ⓒ Graeme Williams 2019

I've been working through a poetry course on Futurelearn. These two pieces of writing are based on exercises we were set. The objective in both exercises was less about producing a finished poem but more about getting us writing.