Between poems

[Dylan di Vilde]

Between poems
I‘m unthinking,
unblinking
my sugar levels slowly sinking

My vacuous face
stares into space
My head in some other worldly place.

My cranium
a vac u um.
The intellect of a geranium.

Bored
slack jawed
but not ignored,

‘Is he dead?’ they prod
‘It’s very odd,
he’s mad you know, the daft old sod.’

So I lie rusting,
requiring dusting.
My lack of movement record busting

Then the muse descends
and the blankness ends
all hell’s let loose
like a rampant moose!
or a frenzied goose!
or a careless Scotchman’s burning hoose*

I bustle
and hustle
nimbly flex my thinking muscle.
Words jostle, rhymes tussle.
‘Pick me’ they plead
‘I’m just what you need’
‘Sorry rhyme,
not this time,’
I firmly say
if it looks like things ain’t going that way
(my replies often terse
when I’m doing a verse)

Then it’s done
my fleeting fun.
and I wave farewell to a departing son.
Alone amongst the surplus crumbs,
I’m blank again ‘til the next one comes.








* he left the gas on


 

[Tracy Mitchell]

Topical goodness, as usual.


T

[Heidi]

Such fun to come and see one of your poems. Thanks for sharing. 
 

[indar]

HEIDI!!! So much fun to plan to comment on Dylan's poem and find you here!! Will you be joining us for NaPo?

Dylan, excuse the hijack:

My cranium
a vac u um.

The intellect of a geranium.

I love this: not only does the plant species name work amazingly well, as a California dweller where geraniums are taking over the state, blooming mindlessly, edging out the tender pansies they are a perfect analogy for virus brain.