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audaciousbulletPoems
Inspiration strikes like lightning-- Wait, no, scratch that. I’m really trying hard not to be cliche. Inspiration strikes like the common cold: It creeps up slowly and dreadfully Until I’m spewing snot out of my nose And coughing up nonsense for a week.   That’s actually a bit more accurate. How often do you catch a cold? Once a year. Maybe twice. Currently I am writing uninspired; Linguistically constipated. Maybe I’m just a bad writer Or maybe the act of writing was only meant To punctuate my emo phase Because then I was a teenager And the possibility of living off of poetry Was only a fun idea And not a requirement. How often do you think about money? Just as often as Everybody else does. It’s (almost) as though artists Must continuously invite sickness Into our lives to remain active creators. I’m sabotaging my immune system So that I’ll be sick enough To see the world as a tyrant Who can be brought to justice Only through the power of my martyred voice. It’s society making me sick, Not me, Why would I do that to myself? I’m just trying to make a living The best way I know how.
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Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 5:10 PM UTC
Another Poem about Poetry (I thought writers aimed to connect with people, not just other writers, hmm...)
Inspiration strikes like lightning-- Wait, no, scratch that. I’m really trying hard not to be cliche. Inspiration strikes like the common cold: It creeps up slowly and dreadfully Until I’m spewing snot out of my nose And coughing up nonsense for a week.   That’s actually a bit more accurate. How often do you catch a cold? Once a year. Maybe twice. Currently I am writing uninspired; Linguistically constipated. Maybe I’m just a bad writer Or maybe the act of writing was only meant To punctuate my emo phase Because then I was a teenager And the possibility of living off of poetry Was only a fun idea And not a requirement. How often do you think about money? Just as often as Everybody else does. It’s (almost) as though artists Must continuously invite sickness Into our lives to remain active creators. I’m sabotaging my immune system So that I’ll be sick enough To see the world as a tyrant Who can be brought to justice Only through the power of my martyred voice. It’s society making me sick, Not me, Why would I do that to myself? I’m just trying to make a living The best way I know how.
#poem#poetry#writing#funny#sad#money#capitalism#struggling#haha
Written by
audaciousbullet
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 5:10 PM UTC
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