deepundergroundpoetry.com
Bootless Winks
My dreams now come reluctantly
and disincline to stay,
as if an exorbitant fee
was keeping them away.
It seems that fee is misery,
as so often it will be,
kind of like a dysentery...
suffered subconsciously.
I would, If could, track down the source
of muse abandonment;
it's like I woke into divorce,
and sterile settlement...
all too, too much like death itself,
or likewise piss-poor sleep,
cursed by a hypnopompic elf...
not letting slumber keep!
and disincline to stay,
as if an exorbitant fee
was keeping them away.
It seems that fee is misery,
as so often it will be,
kind of like a dysentery...
suffered subconsciously.
I would, If could, track down the source
of muse abandonment;
it's like I woke into divorce,
and sterile settlement...
all too, too much like death itself,
or likewise piss-poor sleep,
cursed by a hypnopompic elf...
not letting slumber keep!
Published 3rd Oct 2023
| Edited 10th Dec 2024
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 1
comments 4
reads 188
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
3rd Oct 2023 11:14pm
Wow! Most can't express themselves when the muse disappears! You made it look easy.
3rd Oct 2023 11:30pm
It's been well over a week since something pen worthy hit my brain.
I was starting to freak out.
I was starting to freak out.
4th Oct 2023 2:35am
Writer's block is for sure a bummer, and I regret that it is horribly boastful to say that I never need poetry prompts, but the downside is that I run the risk of going awhile, here and there, without anything to say. It's all got to do with wanting to keep my content as original as possible, even if I wind up painting myself as a jerk:)
And whatever I have to say has to dovetail neatly into the narrow confines of how exactly I wish to present it, which can be a boat anchor to poetic progress in its own right.
We must all proceed as best we see fit to be true to our art, eh?
And whatever I have to say has to dovetail neatly into the narrow confines of how exactly I wish to present it, which can be a boat anchor to poetic progress in its own right.
We must all proceed as best we see fit to be true to our art, eh?
