How could I refuse?

I thought it time to write something. Anything. And to write it quickly. My concentration span is so short these days that everything needs to be done quickly. I need to fit things in between daydreams.

I was reading about Linda’s SOC Here, which demands minimal time and thought and this week required that replies begin with a question. Mine was, ‘why do we need more questions?’, or something like that. I don’t think I even bothered to send it to Linda. It seemed rhetorical.

At the same time I read a comment about my latest contribution to Chel’s Terrible Poetry Contest Here, where I feel always on the very precipice of greatness. Somebody had the temerity to suggest that my poetry wasn’t sufficiently terrible, but I took that to be an expression of artistic envy, directed at one to whom ‘terrible’ is something that comes with such natural ease.

Anyway, to sort of settle things properly I sat down (very briefly)§ and wrote the following. It’s fairly terrible and although it doesn’t start with a question (a terrible disregard for the rules) it contains plenty of them. And provides no answers.

It ponders on matters that you have all heard from me before. The nature of true terribleness relies heavily on boring repetition.

*

 

Sunday

As the sun falls

A night yet to pass

Until Monday calls

The bells are ringing

Can you hear them too?

Are they calling me?

Were they calling you?

 Watching

As it all goes past

Remember a forever

That could never last

There was a light in your eyes

Is it shining now?

And music on your lips

I still hear somehow

 Darkness

But for passing stars

Are you out there still?

Is there life on Mars?

There’s a place up ahead

Where you used to be

I remember the address

I still hold the key

Smiling

She’s wearing your hair

A phantom in the mist

Breathing your air

There’s a ghost in the house

Wearing your shoes

And with a smile like that

How could I refuse?

 Monday

And the light returns

It’s cold in the house

Where the fire still burns

The music plays

It let it play for you

If the song ever ends

What am I to do?

*

 

 

 

 

 

9 thoughts on “How could I refuse?

  1. Unknown's avatar Anonymous

    not terrible at all. stop drilling holes in your own boat.

    This was a lot more moving than a lot of stuff I read, I even got a bit, shall we say, emotional, towards the end.

    (She’s wearing your hair

    A phantom in the mist

    Breathing your air

    There’s a ghost in the house

    Wearing your shoes

    And with a smile like that

    How could I refuse?)

    this is just lovely.

    Like

  2. judyt54c869a044ad's avatar Judy Thompson

    this is just lovely. Stop drilling holes in your own boat.

    she’s wearing your hair

    A phantom in the mist

    Breathing your air

    There’s a ghost in the house

    Wearing your shoes

    And with a smile like that

    How could I refuse?

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Good job sir! For such quick write, sometimes we just have to put it out there or writers block will totally consumes us. I get it! There’s a lot to unpack here 🙂 First that dreaded Monday morning! lol and who exactly is wearing your shoes and do turn the heat on 🙂

    Like

  4. Pingback: WINNER of the Terrible Poetry Contest: Vacation 2024 – Chel Owens

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