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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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4 comments:

  1. Dry spells are depressing, at least for me. But you're right, something generally comes along that shakes things loose. :)

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

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

    ReplyDelete
  4. I love the language in this, very vivid

    ReplyDelete

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