How to be a better traveller

A first stab at poetry

7

So when I finally emerged from the grim shadow of writers block I was advised, quite correctly, that the best prevention is to write… incessantly. On any and all topics. If in doubt, write it down.

So the evening approaches. I’m sat on the porch, notebook and pen in hand waiting for a thought to enter my head, upon which I shall pounce… analysing and extrapolating until my pen runs dry!!!

“Hit me brain!!! Give me your best shot!”

Slowly the wheels start turning, synapses firing and grey cells… greying (???) until finally a thought emerges. Slowly at first… like a mosquito approaching in the morning heat. It’s…….. it’s………

….. Song lyrics? And not just any old song lyrics, no, no, no!!! Fray’s brain has somehow managed to cobble together a stomach emptying amount of cliches into one short verse! A verse that even Bon Jovi would balk at!

Rest assured, those lyrics shall not be inflicted upon your delicate eyes, not unless I one day develop a time machine, don a swanky pair of corduroy bellbottom pants and join the Bonzo Dog Doo-dah Band.

Needless to say, I swiftly turned the page and set to work on another piece. This was equally unexpected. Poetry started to flow. I’ll happily hold my hands up and admit that I know nothing of poetry. I’ve read some good pieces and I’ve read some exquisite guff, and other than James Earl Jones rendition of ‘The Raven’, I’ve never actually sought out any poetry to enrich and nourish my soul.

So I write… and it all flows out of me as one complete piece and I am content.

Good, or exquisite guff…… you decide.

(The title shall be published in a few days)

Am I beautiful and unique snowflake?
Or was it just a case of wrong place, wrong time?
Could I have avoided your gaze, or did I somehow lead you on?
Attract you in some unknowing way?

I see you and your very being fills me with dread… yet our lives seem intertwined.
I must embrace your life if I am to embrace my own, the irony of which does not escape me.

If I were elsewhere would you see somebody else, be with somebody else… or would you just wither and die?
You need me, yet desire without passion is hollow, and that hollow embrace we share sickens me.

7 Comments
  1. ffraiel says

    The deep raw poetry about a mosquito???? Enjoyed it very much.XXX

    1. frayboy says

      It’s a niche market… x

  2. Berny Sansome says

    You so make me laugh! Xx

  3. Chris says

    Also, a true way of being able to gauge if the poem is any good would be to post it next to those sweet Bon Jovi lyrics you nudged out before it. 😉

    1. frayboy says

      When my application is finally accepted by One Direction (if they’re still ‘cool’ now… If not insert any generic, soulless boyband here) then you shall wallow in my romantic warbling. Until that day, you are safe

  4. Chris says

    Can’t decide if you love the mosquito or hate it…

    1. frayboy says

      And yes, the title is Mosquito

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