it has been a long time,
during down time,
going out of your mind,
but what can you do,
just to see it through,
and the temptations of everyday,
also seem to get in the way,
be it a chocolate snack,
or an alcoholic drink,
it is robbing your time,
and erasing that throb called think,
and your word processing day,
has become a house tidy up,
and your computer is cold and lonely,
but the bathroom is clean and squeaky
and the fresh food has been eaten,
but that poem bouncing around your head,
has started to be forgotten,
and your first novel has stopped at 300 words,
and all the other ideas,
are rattling around somewhere,
writers block is not here today,
I have so many ideas,
I do not know who has the right of way,
I want to flood the market,
with words and light,
but the poor world,
is already saturated with half-hearted,
down right depressing,
bollocks up works of art,
and everything can be so depressing,
most of the time I say whatever for,
but my muse from Calabria,
keeps slapping me in the face,
and so I write some more,
and a concert and a birthday got in the way,
I am weak at this time of year,
must be an allergy bringing me down,
finding some strength to write the words down,
going to get this show started,
I am your favourite “party shit faced clown”,
as I try to fathom out what life is,
after working 25 years,
realizing that the shit stays on the fan,
and spreads debris constantly
throughout the years,
and yes you have to learn to love,
and learn to be felt wanted,
with people closer to your heart,
you can learn to forget the word suicide.
and at times like these,
refreshing like a summer breeze,
and all these difficult words,
take a well deserved spin out in the open air,
dusting off the cobwebs,
on old mistakes and vices,
getting older so your birth certificate says,
I have not gotten to the stage,
of being totally gray,
like the squirrel fighting against its red cousin,
a survival of the fittest so the critics say,
and mother nature is a bitch,
most of the time,
a beautiful wild animal,
who would rip you to shreds,
and it has been a long time ,
since I had a little down time,
trying to think things straight,
I have and I must and I should try,
to get a grip on this bitch called life,
with the muse from Calabria under my wing,
we say fuck it to the doubters,
who said we couldn’t even begin,
but as five years approaches,
we are still together as one,
so where have all the doubters gone?
and we may still drive each other,
right up the wall,
but there is no harm in that,
when you live with a wrecking ball,
we are still together firmly as one,
trying to remember where time has gone,
me now over forty must slow down,
picking up speed only in a poetry verse,
living out a decent life with cute lass by side,
I told you once in love I want to hide,
so I am hidden from view,
hidden from all of you,
only fragments of sunlight I will show you,
in my books and my curses,
and in my poetic verses,
in may have been a long time coming,
but my ebooks are out there,
I am not going to be an overnight sensation,
that was never my aim.
I just want to paddle down the running river,
knowing life would never be the same!

©Darren Hobson July 2014