Writer's Block (Distraction)

I sit with pen and paper firm in hand,

(OK, this is a keyboard, mouse and rum)

I cannot find a rhythmic thought, well planned

(And let’s be frank, I’m probably too drunk)

I think of misery and frosty nights

(But really want to watch Episode 4)

My brain is ploughed for ancient thoughts and sights

(God damn, my glass is empty; just one more)

How can I make these sentences connect?

(How did that bloody spider get in here?!)

Why are my words of scrambled dialect?

(Why did I eat that spicy lamb paneer?)

I screw the paper into snowball piles

(It’s more 'control, select all and delete')

My words are dull, dim-wit, disorganised

(...I think I’ll have a quick pick at my feet)

I light the candles, mood must simmer down

(I’ll save a fair few quid on leccy too)

I draw the curtains, darkness now enshrouds

(You think they’ll launch HD for channel two?)

Now the moment, creativity come!

(That spiders’ gone a-missing, FML!)

I feel the words appearing, I succumb

(I swear... I just heard someone ring the bell)

A flourish of beauty adorns the page

(Wikipedia: Random Article)

It’s been so long since I have sat this stage

(... how can the bloody thing be 8 feet tall?!)

My masterpiece, my magnus opus done!

(… there’s only quarter bottle of rum left)

I’ll have it printed, published, run, rerun

(I better hide the coke and down the rest)

And thus, my gifted waters flow again

(And thus it’s time to bleed the lizard dry!)

Never shall I be common, cold, condemned.

(... and now I got the hand soap in my eye!)

I sink into my joy, my well deserved.

(I think I’ll shut down now, I’m proper whacked)

My sleep is long and peaceful, undisturbed.

(Long as that fucking spider don't come back...)

My writers block is cleared, I'll race ahead
(But best that I don't drive 'til after three)
My next poem will be my pyramid

(Inspired on a buy two get one free)

Copyright © 2012 by Simon Austin