You can’t wait for the perfect space

You get to build your perfect space for reading and writing. What’s it like?

I’m writing in an airport

Waiting for a flight.

Tapping as per usual

On my trusty phone.


More often I‘ll blog from my bed

Or soon as I am up

Anywhere there‘s time and space

And I won’t be disturbed.


If I wait for inspiration

It’s likely I‘ll not write

I knock stuff out quite quickly

And hope it is alright.


So waiting for the perfect space

Just wouldn’t work for me.

Sitting in the perfect place

No creativity.


So all you get‘s this silly verse

My novel‘s still unwritten.

The only time my words spill out

Is when they are unbidden.


I used to want the perfect desk

A perfect book filled room

The very best equipment

For jotting ideas down.


You can’t wait for the perfect place

It never will quite come

And if it does well writer‘s block

Could be the sad outcome.


You’ll still stare at an empty screen

Despite your working place

So never mind the perfect time

Just get those ideas down.

Getting back my voice

What positive events have taken place in your life over the past year?

This year was not unpleasant

But has my life moved on?

I’m doing stuff I like to do

I’m happily retired.


The grandkids all got older

They’re moving on in life.

It’s nice to mark their milestones

But have I got my own?


There’s places still to travel

There’s places we marked off

But is that an accomplishment

A positive result?


I’m pleased to still be active

I’ve walked and run a lot

But I am getting slower

Not moving on a lot.


I’ve tried to be more social

But still don’t talk that much.

Even though I try quite hard

I’m still the man I was.


Oddly it’s my writing

That I’ve moved on the most

It isn’t brilliant writing

But every day I post.


I haven’t missed a day since June

I’m on here every day

I’m not producing my best work

But getting back my voice.


Thanks for being with me

For sometimes dropping by

It’s good to be back writing stuff

Let’s see where it may go.

That wretched book

What have you been putting off doing? Why?

I have a list of things ‘to do’

That never get ticked off.

Top of the list the wretched book

That I will never write.


You must have heard

about my book.

It‘ll be the Next Big Thing.

I haven’t quite begun it yet

and likely never will.


You can’t say it’s a failure

If you don’t begin.

The way to keep the dream alive

Is think perhaps you will.


My mother always said

That she would write one day.

That’s a tale I told in verse

Because she never did.


But as to writing fiction

That is still the dream

But I haven’t yet got round to it

And probably never will!

I wish I could write obscurer

What skill would you like to learn?

I’ve read other people’s poems
And they don’t much look like mine
I wish I could write obscurely
Be done with silly rhymes.

I’d like to shroud in mystery
But just say what I mean.
I wish I was better at writing
And could write obscurer lines.

I’d dab words round my canvas
Pluck metaphors from the air

Obscure what I was saying
And leave you crying for more.

I’d like to have you scratch your head
And wonder what I mean
But it seems to come out
In just plain words
No hidden meaning at all.

Maybe I’m just shallow?
Don’t have hidden depths.
There are other, cleverer writers
And I’m just way too dumb.

Think where I could take this
If I didn’t say what I meant?
Fathomless conjectures,
Museful meandering,
Pensive pontification
Big words,
extravagantly constructed sentences?

But would that still be me?
My tired and torrid attempts
To twist, turn and complicate
My communications for the benefit
Of audiences immune to the
Innocence of my simplistic doggerel
Are condemned to fall on fallow ground.
Seeds ungerminated
Failing to come to fruition.

I can’t be doing with that stuff.
I’ll just say what I mean!

I blog to entertain you..

Why do you blog?

I blog to entertain you

Play around with words.

I try to get a rhythm going

Might throw in a rhyme.


Blogs go down quite quickly

While I’ve got some time

They helped me get the habit back

And share some thoughts of mine.


I’m capable of better stuff

Have a stack to share

But blogging gets an audience

And feedback from out there.


Need to build some followers

So more folk take a look

Build some more subscribers here

Then maybe do a book.


I won’t find fame and fortune

Poets don’t get that

But I get a kick when you take a look

At stuff what I have wrote.

The Next Big Thing

What do you enjoy most about writing?

Writing can be a struggle sometimes but there’s always that dream that keeps us going.

The Next Big Thing

I’m sat here in a coffee shop
Like a J.K Rowling thing.
My book’s going to be the
Next big hit
But I’m not quite certain when.

You’ll be taken by my hero
Quite an amazing chap.
Or he could be a girl
I’m not quite sure
I’ve not cracked that bit yet.

It’s bound to make me millions
All I need’s a plot
Half an idea of what to write
Then it’s certain to take off.

I’ve not quite got it started
I don’t know where to begin
But if I ever write this book of mine.
It’s gonna be the next big thing.

Second Wind

Oh God he’s writing poems!
He’s off and writing again.

We knew it was bound to happen

But didn’t know just when?

We know where this is going.

If only we’d been warned!

He won’t pause for reflection.

He’ll just keep banging on!

You try to write

6BDF702C-8DF9-41C5-B41E-14441D91CC39Modelled on Wendy Cope’s poem ‘Some More Light Verse’

You have to try. You try to write.

Your writing’s trite. You drink, get tight.

You struggle to improve your books.

You post a poem. It gets no looks.

You eat some food. You post some junk

You drink some more. You’re slightly drunk.

You read a bit, you walk, you dream.

But nothing works. You want to scream.

You don’t know what to do, you cry.

You’re running out of things to try.

 

You scratch your head. You try to write.

You try to eat and drink what’s right.

You fidget lots. You make a plan.

You long to write. You know you can.

But nothing works. You want to scream.

You walk some more. You read, you dream.

You eat, you drink. Still no one looks

You struggle to improve your books.

You can not see the point. You sigh.

You try to write. You have to try.

The Next Big Thing

6081CE55-339F-498B-8CCC-2F2933ED1187Writing can be a struggle sometimes but there’s always that dream that keeps us going.

The Next Big Thing

I’m sat here in a coffee shop
Like a J.K Rowling thing.
My book’s going to be the
Next big hit
But I’m not quite certain when.

You’ll be taken by my hero
Quite an amazing chap.
Or he could be a girl
I’m not quite sure
I’ve not cracked that bit yet.

It’s bound to make me millions
All I need’s a plot
Half an idea what to write about
Then it’s certain to take off.

I’ve not quite got it started
I don’t know where to begin
But if I ever write this book of mine.
It’s gonna be the next big thing.

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