Saturday 14 August 2010

Upon the realisation it feels like my brain is two sizes too big for my head.

Where did the day go? I stayed up 'til five
'Cause being with people makes me feel alive,
But if I don't sleep more I'll never survive;
I don't have the drive or foresight

To sort out my cycle and sleep in the night.
Waking at 3pm doesn't feel right;
I don't get much day and I'm missing the light,
It's such a sad plight. I'm unhappy,

My head always aching. It's easy to see
That sleeping in daytime is not good for me.
I'm turning nocturnal, a bad thing to be,
I'm longing to see myself thrive.

Tuesday 3 August 2010

Musings

I wrestle with the paper,
Committing rubbish to it.
I’m bloody good at what I do,
So why, why can’t I do it?

I cast my eye around the room
In sheer exasperation;
Nothing seems to answer to
My plea for inspiration.
I sometimes sit for hours
(And that’s no exaggeration)
Waiting for my muse to strike
In tense antici...















... yeah.
Calliope must admire
My fervent dedication,
But even if she does
She doesn’t give an indication.

I want to write a poem
That will sweep across the nation!
Something to evoke such grief,
Or anger and elation!
But instead I suffer,
To my constant irritation,
The ugliest of writer’s blocks –
A lyrical castration.

“Where, oh Muse, where are you now?
Please end this mad frustration!
Why not give me something here,
Some cause for celebration?”
But never does she answer
To my plea for information,
So I just sit and grumble
At my lack of inspiration.

I wrestle with the paper,
Committing rubbish to it.
I’m bloody good at what I do,
So why? Why can’t I do it?