Oblivious, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37)
Nestled in the carrier
Unaware, unaware
Curled up in balls
Paws on paws
Insomnia, cursed mouse
I move about
Bone white background
Black print taps out
Words that struggle
To come out
I want a subject
To shout shout shout
It won’t come out
It’s locked in
Where ever it is
Muffled, murmur
Cloaked in silence
Chained inside me
And they sleep
Peacefully
Unaware nothing’s in me
Frustration they cant see
When will the next one
Be ready to read?
I hate this retched subject
It’s been too many times
I write about the things
That are not on my mind
My brain, is stuck
In a bind
And they sleep, unaware.
(end)
I get frustrated when I cant find something deep and serious to write about. I start something, then scrap it. I move my mouse around and around like fiddling my fingers. I pop back and forth to other pages hoping reading other things will spark a poem.
And my kittens, content and off in slumber, don’t know how frustrated I am right now. I am putting trinket poems out right now. I like what I am writing but I am not feeling the BOOOOM I have with some of my others.
I wrote this poem at 2am approximately. Insomnia sucks, and lack of inspiration sucks. But my kittens, at least they are happy.
Brian37 AKA Brian James Rational Poet...... My Poetry 
2 responses to “Oblivious”
I can so identify with this poem and your words here, Brian. I get equally frustrated when something serious I want to write about just won’t come out. I’ve got so many half-written poems and pieces in my drafts folder on WP. Some have been there for months, and I just can’t express how I want them to come out. I can really identify with hopping from one post to another, looking for inspiration, too. It doesn’t usually work for me. Whatever you write has worth, whether you feel it has or not. Someone else out there will be able to identify with your words and feel less alone because of them.
Insomnia is awful – laying there in the middle of the night (usually, in my case, with Peanut sitting on my legs), trying everything I can think of to get back to sleep. Light on, light off, TV on, TV off etc., etc. I often drift back to sleep just in time for the alarm clock to ring! Somehow, waking up to a little furry face (or two, in your case) nuzzling your chin makes everything seem better, however temporarily.
Keep writing, my friend. Let your words flow from your pen (or laptop) as they come. Take care of yourself.
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Yep. And it isn’t helping that Elon has severely limited access to viewing other poets posts. You can find it, but it is a pain in the ass now.
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