i can remember
thinking at one time
a whole lot of silly little thoughts
individual thoughts
orphaned thoughts
the bastard children
of that forgotten line
those coupla words
that slipped away
and fell into the gaps between the seconds
- getting past the screensaver
- minimising all that other shit
- opening word processor du jour
- Ctrl-N
now, where were we?
[________________________]
it's like a game
i unwillingly play with myself
i tease myself with really good lines
chart topping
eye popping
name dropping
such droolingly good lines
fat and fecund with promise
i waxed lyrical with my best
but lacking the ability to remember shit
for all but a few seconds
it get taken down or it gets taken out
this is not
what i was going to write
i hold my hands up
and look at them
mouth agape in disbelief
full of pride and a little shamed
i’m certain of both
full of lithe and a little grin
i’m hurting for the most
it was a line to die for
it was going to be so good
it was a brilliant bloody line
if i may say so myself
…
that brilliant line
hit my mind
while my hands
including and right up to
my wrists
were in
a mix of last night’s dishes,
steaming hot water
and soap
About the Creator
Brenton F
It's just a token of my extreme - Frank Zappa
- - -
I have an eBook, a collection of my favourite pieces
Comments (5)
So relatable, also a fun read! I’ve been feeling similarly lately, amidst all the daily reqs of life, to even find the time to remember that I had a line I wanted to nurture. This poem captures the experience perfectly.
A line to die for. This is why there is insomnia, insanity and beautiful work, like this. I love this. Enjoy it more, as I re-read it 👏
This was kinda relatable. Brilliantly written!
Descriptive and surreal!!! Enjoyed the read!!!♥️♥️💕
Not a bad description of the process...and may all your orphaned thoughts find a home!