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Wednesday, 6 July 2011

On Relapse

Of late, on relapse, dry run   
My instinct of creativity   
Has left me wanting  

Sparks that fly of my finger tips   
Making music as I transfer thoughts   
Into pictures of words in magic   

In meaning with key pad   
Lay silence "cease" like mid day   
Monday in a church house, lets pray   

This feels strange and eerily empty
Comparable to the feeling one gets   
When faced with the thunder heat   

Realisation that someone   
Just robbed ones house empty   
Emotional empty tanks, my mind lay blank  

Fizzle acting as clogged matter, blocking creativity  
Like the six o'clock news   
That never came, satellite down   

Power shortage on a summers day  
Nasty rain on bbq set, ill fated   
Ice cream melting rapidly, on hell fire  

But natural is natural as, acts  that follows  
A sneeze should get me unclogged again   
All I need is the pollen grace
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  1. Dry spells are depressing, at least for me. But you're right, something generally comes along that shakes things loose. :)

  2. "Fizzle acting as clogged matter, blocking creativity"-- love this line.

  3. Sheilagh Lee said: Dry spells come and go this is definitely not a dry spell this is a wonderful poem.:)

  4. I love the language in this, very vivid


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