(Congrats Dylan Roberts for winning the free books! I’ll be contacting you. :) )
They run through my head
With their shiny new shoes
Leaving indents across my forehead
Then running on through
Wish I could catch them
In the loop of my lasso
No way for them to break free
No way for them to go
But ideas are free
Like wind they pass through
Can’t catch them in your fingers
Cuz there’s nothing you can do
They hit like a lightning bolt
Riding on the jet plane
Even sound cannot hold them
All attempts go in vain
It was a comment on Writer’s Block, I believe. Just like I’m going through now. My head feels like I somehow got molasses to pass through my skull, and it is now laying on the top of my brain. Or perhaps it’s like a fuzzy sloth taking a nap on my head, and his arm is resting between my brain’s two hemispheres.
As you can see though here, ideas just seem to pass and go. Now, my head’s a dead-weight. Although, as brain dead as I am and was at this, I don’t think this is all that bad. Considering my age.
For those of you who write/read poetry, feel free to post one of your oldies in the comments, or your favorite poem written/read. I would love to hear from you.
And what’s your opinion on rhyming? Cliche? Or to your liking?
See you tomorrow on ANOTHER Harry Potter review. (Sorry, hard to head anything else when you’re immersed in this series.)