“Today, I’m tired, can’t write,
try as I might,
there are no words in my head,
my thought processes are dead,
no creation taking shape,
nothing on the poetry landscape.
I never know, from one day to the next,
if it’ll be there
or if I’ll just stare
at a blank sheet of paper.
One day, alive and kicking,
the next, it’s gone missing,
I’m on the rack,
but, the next day, I’m back,
that’s how it is with art and creating,
you can spend hours, days, just waiting for inspiration.
I’m used to it,
I expect to sit for hours with nothing doing,
but it’s fine because I know
that the lines and the rhymes will be back soon,
that I’ll have lots to write about,
lots of stuff,
more than enough.
Tomorrow’s another day
and I’ll have plenty to say, to write,
and I won’t wait,
I’ll make hay while the sun shines,
while the lines rhyme.
See you tomorrow afternoon,
and it won’t come a moment too soon,
no promises, no guarantees,
I might be pulling my hair out,
might be on my knees,
but the great thing about ‘tomorrows’ is that they come around quickly,
they’re as close to today as France is to Italy,
so here’s hoping,
and no moping,
here’s to tomorrow,
and, in the meantime, no sorrow…” – Koby