My pen is poised, what shall I write,
The mind is 'dark', it needs some light,
Some 'inspiration' would be enough
To trigger the fingers and do a rough
Transcript of thoughts which might be pleasing,
But somehow at present, I'm into squeezing
My brain, to think up a suitable start,
Why aren't I a person who's 'grey matter' is smart,
When out of the blue a sentence appears,
The brain reacts and the numbness clears,
To reveal a startling piece of Lit,
That suddenly becomes a Hit,
That would be great, but the chances are,
A million to one! Oh! Lets retire to the bar!
© Ernestine Northover
I'll never know where inspiration comes from, let me know if you ever find out. Lovely write. Andrew x
Good writing! It expresses one of those moment you sit in the dark and try to harness the subconscious for ideas! beautiful composure! My regards!
A thought held and then lost again.I have a feeling that the subconcious just needs a little more time to contemplate.Wonderful write, Love Duncan
love the last stanza. Know what you mean when you're trying to write but can. love this poem. liz
I can definately relate to this one....you seem to have plenty of inspiration and I am glad. I'm catching up on some of your poems I've missed and I'm enjoying it very much. Sincerely, Mary
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a smashing idea after writer's block.