Tonight there is no poetry
by cricketjeff on August 7, 2010. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
No tale to tell, no laughter in my heart.
I can’t provoke a sleeping muse, there is no art to find
How can you end if you can’t even start.
I sat and watched the evening news, the world’s a nasty place,
I wondered something beautiful and light.
My music seemed cacophony and not a glowing trace
Of goddesses cavorting through the night
And now I’m lying in the bath, no dreams to shape the steams,
I feel as flat as Norfolk in a mist.
I can’t explain this lethargy, it’s merely something seems
To say it doesn’t care if I exist.