there comes a point
when you get stuck,
dead end.
no thoroughfare.
turn back now.
all your poems
start to feel the same
you feel
like an abandoned factory
locked inside a rotting chest
inside a dusty attic:
boarded up windows
grimy machinery,
poorly-lit
forgotten rooms
you
are an assembly line
unattended,
in state of broken
disrepair.
go on,
try.
write a couple lines...
leave it
as an untitled draft
go through the others
read them aloud
change, delete, rearrange
- doesn't sound right.
add a little
thinnnk about it
undo
save it
come back later.
look over the poems
you've already written
god, there's so many
was i more inspired then?
or are they all just shit?
doesn't matter,
keep adding ideas to the page
even if you're not sure
what they are yet.
get the gears turning
start thinking,
stay calm:
your mind knows what do to.
i can't think of anything to write
i can't think of anything to write
my fingers are getting tired,
god, remember Jessica's ass?
yeah, that's a thought,
let's channel that energy --
Jessica, Jessica,
you make me feel... poetica
do you do squats
or is that butt... a replica?
no.
keep thinking,
stay calm,
release the excess tension -
your mind knows what to do...
here I am
sitting in a chair
here I am
scratching away at my hair
down there,
it is brittle like a bear
I once knew a lady quite fair
Jessica, are you still there?
stop. you're ruining us.
we need poems.
god, maybe we should try a haiku --
...
... tap tap tap
what was the rhyming scheme again?
hold up, i'll check
"Haiku - A form of Japanese poetry consisting of three unrhymed lines. The first and third lines have five syllables; the second line has seven syllables."
why the fuck is it so specific?
why not just five, five, five?
god, the Wikipedia article is massive,
and there's one for Haikus in English...
I don't have the time to read these articles,
I need to be doing my reading assignment for school
I just wanted to quickly pump out a new and shiny poem because darkvs voted on one of my poems and I wanted it to appear as though I publish a lot of poems rather than there being a fetid swamp of one-hundred-something poems in a bloated collection that'snowcollectingdust*UAAAAH*how manytimesdidijustsay'poem'can'tevenuseathesaurus mumwas righti'mgayoh god,oh god,
wait
snow falling outside (5)
water trembles in a glass (7)
now, lost forever (5)
...Jess's incredible arse... (6)