Now It's Coming
It's coming - hard, fast and enthusiastically
I feel it, welling up, demanding to escape like a pent up bull-rider
Intelligent words SCREAM to be freed of their confines
And laid to rest on patiently vacant paper
or at least dramatically expelled into the etheric digital world
I'll release those witty words soon enough
Time's ticking after all and the pressure's really on
I've been stewing these inspired verbo-concoctions for days
They're sure to find their way out any minute now
Hands poised above keyboard, tea at hand, animals fed
But wait ...
I'm hungry.
No, I'm achey
OK, actually I'm horny
How can I be expected to work like this?
I'll eat - no, I've just done that
I'll have a hot shower - no, I've done that too
I'll masturbate - ummm... I wouldn't admit to that here!
OK - I'll be able to think better if I vacuum the house.
Walk the dog.
Call a friend.
Check my horoscope.
Check my email (oh, done that already)
Post a poem about not writing
...(You are hereby found guilty of 'Blogitism': Blogging your life instead of living it)
Put on a CD.
OK - I'll put on a CD and that's it. After that, the buck stops here.
If I chant the mantra three times, it should work:
When I hear the Chieftans, I will be a creative genius
When I hear the Chieftans, I will be a creative genius
When I hear the Chieftans, I will be a creative genius.
I will write, and I will write until there is nothing left to say.
They will give me my graduate degree and I will attend the ceremony this time
And I will be promoted, make more than 100K, get the guy and have 2.5 kids.
On my mark,
Get set,
GO!!!!!!!!!
posted by Mindfull at 6:28 PM
1 Comments:
Once again - your poetry is right on the money. You know a writer's vices. How many times have I fiddled around with various 'must do' tasks, just to avoid the moment when I have to sit down with the laptop, stare at a blank wall, and go into that realm of consciousness where creativity lives?
What do we do when we go there? It's a kind of self hypnosis maybe... I unfocus my eyes, and visit a part of my head where I can dissociate from reality. It actually is a different world - a place I sometimes love, but not always. That's why I walk in the garden, or make a pot of tea, or pat the dog instead of going there. But when I'm in the mood, the wonderfulness of having a secret world, where anything can happen, is such a luxury, that I feel I am an eastern potentate - the Maharaja of make believe, ruler of all that I survey, and since my imagination has no bounds when I really let it lose, I am a wealthy man indeed. Maybe I'll make you my concubine, and we will eat grapes and drink wine, but not too much, because there are even more beautiful things we can do, Princess Mindful. I can stroke your skin and brush your lips with mine - just a touch mind, not to heavy, because I know you like that teasing thing - I know about that... 'It's all in the kiss,' that's my motto.... So, we'll walk in a garden that's scented with jasmine, I'll hold your hand lightly, and lead you to Paradise. We'll sit by a babbling brook, and you won't be in cold and wet old BC any more, because now we're in MY world, where anything can happen, now I've chosen you....
Oh well - back with a bump, my head's switched and I've a lunch to attend, but things to do first.
I emailed you - don't know if the account is live.
Fred
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