try to remember every single word,
we have learnt in our lives,
try to see every moment carved,
in our memories of days gone by,
think of every news story stored,
that has moved you in some way,
now take all this material,
make a poem or an essay.
take a break from being angry,
taking a pause from being mean,
thinking of something positive,
taking the express train away from the obscene,
we cannot write in the same old way,
we need to change our tactics to win,
unlucky for me Moyes misses the point,
and therefore Man Utd fail to win,
but we need to take a break from winning,
but it does not mean we have to lose,
we just need to change things around,
we need to give our thought processor a snooze,
then refreshed and feeling new,
we can write the best poem ever,
inspiration can come from thunder clouds,
in the wish we have some better weather,
let us take a break, to pause and to reflect,
let us take time to sharpen our pencil,
recharged now like a smart phone,
the heat is on and the West will be won,
with a few simple lines to make us smile,
overtaking writers block and creative denial,
getting in deep and descriptive and cute,
stealing the applause of one reader aloof,
forgetting to thank everyone for the delightful uproar,
rained on by rotten fruit and manure,
focusing in on a subject not yet written,
getting on up and coming down high,
prodding the sleeping tiger in the aim to get bitten,
juggling with fire with a heart cold as ice,
trying on a new hat just like trying to be nice,
forgetting the grease on an old-fashioned gear,
going down in a storm like Brighton’s forgotten pier,
not remembering where you came from,
and too angry to believe you can win,
trying to write differently and purposely,
constantly dissecting opinion trying to find something,
but the verse must come to an end,
as the words they start to wilt under the glare,
poetic injustice just seems so unfair,
and just when you think the knots have come undone,
you realize you have a poem and it has been quite fun,
does not make a lot of sense would you like to decipher?
just leave it at that, let the critics swim through the lines,
let the reader look at my verse in decline,
it is another entry to my biography,
most probably forgotten in a month or so,
but writing is done, so pick up the plow,
harvest another bunch of plucky little words,
roll on tomorrow I will write something so absurd.
can you beat a dancing cat or a clapping ant,
well there is no harm in trying,
smiling beats the hell out of ingloriously crying.

©D.Hobson February 2014