No bed, or: Roses

My 2nd Lai

My engines are fired
up, as is required
for flight.
Coffee has me wired,
but nothing's transpired
tonight.
Though I feel inspired,
my brain's much too tired
to write.

I dream of heartaches,
of mountains, of lakes,
still, vast.
Then, morning, I wake;
it's come time to make
breakfast.
Oh, for goodness sake,
just give me a break -
that's passed!

Rusted old wind chimes;
Dulled roses past prime,
just thorns...
Mind filled up with slime;
eyes sticky with grime;
still worn.
Can't just: "Up and rhyme!"
moving lines sublime
each morn.

Let’s write poetry together!

When it comes to partnership, some humans can make their lives alone – it’s possible. But creatively, it’s more like painting: you can’t just use the same colours in every painting. It’s just not an option. You can’t take the same photograph every time and live with art forms with no differences.

Ben Harper (b. 1969)

Would you like to create poetry with me and have a completed poem of yours featured here at the Skeptic’s Kaddish? I am very excited to have launched the ‘Poetry Partners’ initiative and am looking forward to meeting and creating with you… Check it out!

16 thoughts on “No bed, or: Roses”

  1. Haha! So much turmoil. Sometimes, I’m so pissed when there’s a lot to be done and the mind just wants to sit and write. And then, the anxiety just jams the creative pleasure. Oh well! What to do… Nice one, David! πŸ™‚

  2. A well-written poem, David. It must surely be about mornings remembered. This poem is clearly written by someone at the top of their game! Most of us have experienced uninspired days…beautifully expressed. ❀

  3. I would say have another coffee, but … This description so resonates ‘ mind sticky with slime’!

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