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Empty Headed Moron

Eagerly on my word processing app My fingers pressing keys Tippity tap Penning my classic in verse Thinking the fog will disperse Yet there’s no classic just absolute cr*p Hell have no fury like cranial mist Even the mild mannered would clench a fist Aghast as my rhyme and meter take flight Dreading the empty page night after night Eureka proclaimed… but the notion I sense Doesn’t take shape for this poet is dense Must I endeavour in vain one more day Ordering words in a haphazard way Rabid strikes of the delete key Only conspire to defeat me Now I’m a nitwit with nothing to say

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David Kavanagh

Date: 1/30/2023 2:57:00 PM

I know how you feel Terry, I can go from inspiration to zero faster than running into a brick wall in dense fog, but in fairness you got a very clever acrostic here, so maybe that fog is slowly lifting, like Ilene kinda said, your probably doubting yourself, that happens too, cheers David

Terry Flood
Date: 1/31/2023 10:51:00 AM

Thanks, David. I confess to being a little chuffed that I managed to squeeze two limericks and three couplets into this rhyming acrostic but my main hope was that it would break down that wall. Next step, possibly to be posted today, is a bit of total silliness intended to achieve the same end. Terry

Ilene Bauer

Date: 1/30/2023 11:39:00 AM

It’s amazing you were able to express this perfectly in an acrostic, Terry! I think that’s proof enough that you are wrong!

Terry Flood
Date: 1/30/2023 2:21:00 PM

Would’ve liked to have made all three stanzas limericks but alas the middle one had six lines. Glad you enjoyed, Ilene, but of all the blocks I’ve had, this one just seems to go on and on. I’ve lost count of how many half poems I’ve got now… if I ever finish them I’ll probably burn out Soup’s servers. ;-)