I can’t write today....
You could call it writer’s block.
My brain’s locked up, just like a rock.
My thoughts are few, my mood is blue,
I’ve hardly penned a line or two.
I just can’t write today.

Tried to write, profound and true,
But my thinking cap ain’t got a clue.
A poem with beauty, like a song,
To show the world that we’ve gone wrong.
But I just can’t write today.

The thoughtful words have not evolved,
My writing process has dissolved.
Creative juices, dried up, dead.
So I turn on my remote instead.
I can’t seem to write today.

So I flip on to channel One.
On Springer’s stage, they’re having fun.
With leather, whips, and strange devices,
Transvestites full of gender crisis.
Channel Two is not much better,
She wants a threesome.....he won’t let her.
But I just can’t write today.

Clicked on up to channel Three,
Now that was a real site to see!
I’m trying to write in Iambic Pentameter,
And they’re discussing best penile diameter.
Moving on to channel Four,
A girl’s dolled up like a two–bit whore,
To make this travesty a beaut,
Her Mommy thinks it’s really cute.
But I can’t write today.

Still further up at channel Five,
“A grade school shooting...some survive”
Channel Six has more to share,
“Spare that poor killer from the chair”
Up again to channel Seven,
“Send me your cash;...you’ll to get to heaven”
And of course there’s channel Eight,
All skin and lace to fascinate,
And channel Nine shows who collects
Fourth generation welfare checks.
But I still can’t write today.....

As I channel surf on my TV,
I’m saddened by the world I see.
Politician’s silvered pockets,
Third world group’s atomic rockets,
Parents who don’t have a clue,
Why their babies are having babies too.
Terrorists, with holy prayers,
And vicious bombs in market squares.
There’s crazies who would kill another
Whose color differs from the other.
And things that make one’s stomach sour,
Abortion in the eleventh hour.
Children, innocent and young,
Are killing others with a gun.
“Murder, Rape and Genocide,
Our live report begins at nine”……
I think I’ll write today.

I hung my head, as stricken dumb,
What have we let this world become.
“Go watch TV”, the parents say,
We feed this to our kids each day.
This mad TV’s a living hell,
It’s taught our next generation well!!
Man, highest life form in the chain,
Wrought death and doom….are we insane??
My God, I fear that I might see
A reflection there of you.....or me.......
I dropped my tuner, went to bed,
And scratched these feeble words instead……


I did right today......

03/21/2005

Posted on 03/21/2005
Copyright © 2024 Fredrich Mohre