Last week I woke one morning to find “PANTS” scrawled on my hand, no doubt to remind me of some brilliant germ of a poem idea from the early hours. It didn’t. I had no recollection of writing it, let alone any attached poetry. At least the family thought it was amusing.

Some writers journal regularly. If it works do it, if not, at least keep notebooks at hand – carry one with you, have one by the bed. The best ideas (or at least, ideas) don’t wait for a planned writerly session.

(Trouble waiting to happen)

‘It wasn’t meant to be,’
They’ll say,
‘With hindsight.’

They’re lovely individually.
But The Twain is shite.

Last night’s 3 am gem (eh?) was that rhyme – usually I just find semi-legible scraps; odd words, part-lines or phrases. There are a couple more poem ideas from last night to decipher and work on later. Hopefully they’ll be a wee bit deeper. ‘n’ all.

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2 Responses to “PANTS”

  1. Ron says:

    Yea, I have a few dozen of those in my WTF file

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