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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

Copyright © Terry Flood | Year Posted 2023

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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 Login to Reply 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! Login to Reply 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. ;-)