I thought I’d sit and write my post—
Might even take the time,
To type it out in metered lines
And try to make them rhyme.
I sometimes have good luck with this,
Sometimes it turns out well.
But then again, at other times,
You couldn’t even tell—
I’d tried to make it rhyme, because
The meter was so force-ed,
It sounded more like something that
A donkey, or a horse-said.
But not today! No, THIS will be
A poem for the ages.
I feel a groove. I think I might
Go on and on for pages!
My muse is here to spur me on.
I feel her gentle urging,
Like paregoric given to
A child, who’s sick and purging.
You see? With words and rhyme like that,
This simple little poem,
Might turn into an epic, huge,
That fills a mighty tome.
(But Carol read that verse above,
And said it made her seasick!
Her head began to throb with pain,
She took an analgesic.)
I guess my rhymes don’t always please
The folks who view their splendor.
These words might make some turn to drink,
And send them on a bender.
But though some see these lines as dreck,
(They love to laugh and mock)
To write them helps a hack like me
Get past my “Blogger’s Block!”
(I could have continued, but ran out of time. And I STILL don’t have any pictures to share. Won’t be long, though...)
Might even take the time,
To type it out in metered lines
And try to make them rhyme.
I sometimes have good luck with this,
Sometimes it turns out well.
But then again, at other times,
You couldn’t even tell—
I’d tried to make it rhyme, because
The meter was so force-ed,
It sounded more like something that
A donkey, or a horse-said.
But not today! No, THIS will be
A poem for the ages.
I feel a groove. I think I might
Go on and on for pages!
My muse is here to spur me on.
I feel her gentle urging,
Like paregoric given to
A child, who’s sick and purging.
You see? With words and rhyme like that,
This simple little poem,
Might turn into an epic, huge,
That fills a mighty tome.
(But Carol read that verse above,
And said it made her seasick!
Her head began to throb with pain,
She took an analgesic.)
I guess my rhymes don’t always please
The folks who view their splendor.
These words might make some turn to drink,
And send them on a bender.
But though some see these lines as dreck,
(They love to laugh and mock)
To write them helps a hack like me
Get past my “Blogger’s Block!”
(I could have continued, but ran out of time. And I STILL don’t have any pictures to share. Won’t be long, though...)
11 comments:
I agree there was some blockage
That your poem helped you to clear
But the target twasn't the sluggish brain
'Twas closer to the rear...
Well, maybe so. But how many poems have you read that included "paregoric" and "analgesic?"
Hmmm. Come to think of it, "analgesic" DOES start with...
You got me laughing with this one. Very creative, John. Paregoric? that's a golden oldie, huh?
I also find it easier to talk in rhyme a lot
When words don't flow so easily and I am in a spot
And sometimes even rhyming is difficult to do
It's easier to rather eat your hat or your shoe.
But you do have a knack of being entertaining
Whether it is sunny or cold gloomy and raining
I have copied all your poems and put them in my book
The one which I am scrapbooking - a lot of time it took
So yes, you are being published as humble as it may be
And hope this revelation makes you joyful and happy.
Bravo!
That was a good one!
WOO -- HOO !! I'm getting published!
(See Michelle's comment above.)
That's great, John! I especially enjoyed the part about the muse. :)
If that is what you do when you have writer's block...I envy you. I write nothing when I have writer's block.
Catching up on your posts. Is Writer's Block going around? I think I have it.
Um, didn't I once tell you I thought your Carol was awesome? She's funny as well. :)
But I do like the poem
Take care of you and yours, :)
Hahaha! I love it!
I'm not publishing your works John , but I do have them on file and I've suggested to my children that they should donate my hard drive to the Smithsonian when I depart for where ever It is I'm going, so you may yet be recognized.
Post a Comment