#writerproblems

How to catch a Judge’s eye?

There must be something in it

Some method – some madness

Some sacrificial ritual to evoke

To claim their eyes and ears

Sew them to my words

And raise my vision

From the grave of poet tears

In July I will write,

I shall carve out my heart

Paint only by the light

Of a weeping orange candle

I will relinquish all ink

To glean admiration

Soak parchment in hope

With this incantation

By the waxing fingernail

Of an August moon

I will pray to all Gods

For answers back soon

I will bake lots of cookies

Bare all of my secrets

Stitch buttons on poppets

Post each judge to keep it

I could stalk them on twitter

Devour their heroes

Smuggle a cheque

With several zeros

Bribe them with candy

Kidnap their cat
Sneak in some Semtex
And that would be that

Oh what am I thinking
Oh where has this led
I can’t share this poem
That’s stuck in my head!

 

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The Monster Within

It calls to me at night,
The beast shrouded in darkness.
Silent calls echoing in my mind,
Reverberate through my heart
And pierce my soul.

Each night he lays,
At the foot of my bed,
Waiting until my thoughts drift.
Only then will he pounce,
Tearing ideas, limb from limb
Allowing only tattered dreams.

Then in the morning, he sleeps.
Content in his role, fulfilled
Leaving me only with fragments.
Scorched cinders of denial.
Crushed bastions of brilliance,
Fallen around my feet.

 

Writers Niggle

I’m lost with days
I just don’t know
If I should come
Or I should go
It’s been three days
Since I last slept
It’s clear my brain
Now seems inept
It’s floating now
a caffeine haze
Neurons firing
Thoughts ablaze
Letters jumbled
Words in fog
Lips are twitching
Eyes agog
Something stirring
Feeling near
Try to focus
All that fear
I know it’s stuck
Inside my head
But please I need
To go to bed.

Night Terror -Draft

It happened again – my words disappeared
Just like the night once before
I’m sure they were there
all typed and prepared
and left all alone in a drawer
Sometimes they stay
and sometimes they go
Sometimes they just fall apart
I’m left with some words
It just seems absurd
but sometimes they expand and grow

I really should take stock
of all words and phrases
poured onto paper at night
but sometimes i’m dreaming
and sometimes they’re screaming
and sometimes they’re there
– and i’m not.

Yet now i’m all confused
all twisted and tangled
i’m pondering where can it be
There now is a title
yet i’m so confangled
cos nothing is in the body
I remember I wrote verse
It was there in my WordPress
that’s now a glaring blank slate

What I have is ironic
I blame electronics
and hazily pressing a save
All I have is the title
and no clear recital
a vague memory of the night
With old faithful Biro
there was none of this error
just old fashioned words
and smudgy “Night Terror”