"Daily...Whenever"

It’s been a while

Since I put pen to paper

Keen as mustard

For the first few days

Then excuses

For scribbling delays.

Cogs whirring

Dormant brain cells turning

All systems go!

Be real-there are no targets

This isn’t the news on the radio

Like LBC

On the hour, every hour.

If I do that I’ll blow a fuse.

This is supposed to be

Creative writing

I think is the poncy term

Even more so than…

(Whisper it) POETRY.

It’s something I like

Want to enjoy

Not get under my skin

And start to destroy.

Does it matter if there’s ‘writers block’?

What that means I’ve no idea

So it’s not actually that

But near enough.

Glancing at the time on the clock

A notebook by my bed

Fat lot of good; that’s my wanking time!

Make a habit jot down what’s in my head

General thoughts from my memory bank

I curse myself if I don’t get it saved

Gone forever…the line I craved.

There’s nothing worse than forgetting

Write it down when I can

Surely not to hard to understand?

Is it worth getting wound up about?

Pouring fuel on my fire of self doubt

Deep breathing releasing pressure

Writing things down at my leisure.

Poetry writing should be to enjoy

Not another tool to self destroy

I must use my pen where and when

And not to beat myself up again.

Dulwich Poet-January 2013

(When I was chatting to a fellow Dulwich Hamlet supporter, at the beginning of January 2013, it crept out in conversation that he writes poetry. I said I hadn’t done so since I’d left school really, & he encouraged me to start again. He told me he tries to write one a day, which is far too ambitious for me)