Sunday Scribbling: Toys

My toys are all laid out to see
A list of prompts to inspire me
Computer lit up – keyboard in wait
Paper and pens’ appetite to sate

But the most important “toy” of all
The muse that keeps me in it’s thrall
My brain is dead, a dry lump of clay
No one, it seems, want to come out and play

Cassie and Kell won’t answer the door
Katie is mad at Mary Sue, once more
Glenna and John and the girl are asleep
The wizard and his lady are making out – I peeped

Do I force, ignor, make it a chore
Or let it alone, let it marinate more
Is it gone or just refusing to speak
Did it break, hide away, spring a leak?

I’m not in a panic but frustration looms
I hope that it finds its way home soon
I’ll finish this rhyme and hope for the best
I’m afraid I’m failing if this is a test

10 thoughts on “Sunday Scribbling: Toys

  1. paschal

    Let it marinate, and marinate yourself in one very cold river or swimming pool. Cassie and Kell are undoubtedly cooking up something very tasty for you.

    This is where the all-important trust comes in.

    Or was that another version of Van Morrison making a song out of “I’d Love to Write Another Love Song” on Avalon Sunset and then following with the sublime “Coney Island”?

  2. Dee

    ah Van Morrison
    When noone steps on my dreams
    there’ll be days like this
    When people understand what I mean
    there’ll be days like this
    When you bring out the changes
    of how everything is
    Well my momma told me
    there’ll be days like this

    If I can’t find some peace of mind I’ll have to settle for finding a pool LOL

  3. missalister

    You did really well for being in a dry spell, Dee. I’m there myself. I’m so uptight I can’t see straight. My atenna’s knocked off and I can’t pull in whatever channel free-flowing creativity is broadcasting on! And as disappointing as that is, it’s just the way it is. “They” say, write anyway. So that’s what I did and it’s a piece of shit. At least you did something creative with your stuckness! : )

  4. anno

    Some days are just like that. Sounds like you, like me, are waiting for another kind of someday. I sure enjoyed your imaginative response to a creative drought, though.

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