Some days, I am stuck for ideas.
To call it an overload of ideas might be a better way to put it.
Unique ones come seldom alone.
Coming together as at the rush of children on hearing the school bell.
Knowing I must decide, where to start. Doesn't help.
First one then the next,
Or writing in parallel, which one first.
Reasonable thoughts would stop somewhere.
Instead, I grumble and make more coffee.
Denying the urgency, playing the poet.
Eventually something will happen.
As soon as I have started more will follow.
Surely there must be a tap to shut for a while.
Poetry writer in the early morning. Poetry as a wake up call. Then later I draw lines and colours. I have a page on Instagram my art other than words although it contains words too. Titles are important to finish a piece like a full stop.