Writer’s Cramp?
I asked for advice that might come to mind.
They said stick it where the sun don’t shine.
I said what kind of advice is that, you jerks.
They said to take it for what it is worth.
I just wanted help to write this down.
They said do we look like simple clowns?
What in the world does that mean?
They said look at the whole, not in between.
That is about as clear as mud, I said.
Just like the thoughts inside your head.
You insulting sapsuckers are no help at all.
Oh, is our little poet going to bawl?
Ask for a little help and what do I get?
You couldn’t get it right, even on a bet.
That’s it. I’ve had it with this word smith trash.
Good. It’s time you wrote something with a little class.
I’ve had enough! You guys have got to go.
That’s kind of hard when were in your head bro.
Then it hit me like a revelation out of time.
These voices I’ve been hearing are mine.
To be able to write poetry without help,
I have to learn to tune out self.
Do other writers have this problem?
But then, this is not really about them.
A little self analysis should help.
Sassy, you’re just a little whelp.
Wise ass, you’re really the real fool.
You sapsuckers wouldn’t know what to do,
if it wasn’t for me,—- you fools.
There, that should clear my mind.
Now, I can put in some quality time.
Good poetry will soon be on the way.
Those sapsuckers can harass me some other day.
———————————————-R.W. Johnson—–(2018)