williambulteel

~ my grumpy yet accurate view on the world and its problems

williambulteel

Monthly Archives: August 2013

hyperactivity

15 Thursday Aug 2013

Posted by willb1989 in poetry

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needing fuel for my last day at work in ages i went on a caffeine bender. the following poem was written on a large americano with an extra shot and two bottles of mountain dew. i am literally tripping balls right now so if it doesn’t make any sense i apologise

Hyperactivity

all i can see is a flash and a crash,
a mash and a dash
of thoughts that will clash
my actions are rash
as i splash through the trash
burning away at the vast caffeine cache.
it hasn’t been long and i’m still going strong
everythings right
and nothing is wrong
i hear bells are ringing
the ding and the dong
the throng sings a song
and its here i belong
I spring on a string and i feel like a king
I cling to a wing
as i swing with a zing
so bring me a ring
and i’ll ting on that thing
my actions are made without
hesitating
soon in a heap i shall tumble to sleep
and the sheep they shall leap
as they look for bo peep
and all through my dreams
i shall creep through the deep
nothing else rhymes so these words i’ll keep
bleepity reapity steepity sweep
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the muse

13 Tuesday Aug 2013

Posted by willb1989 in poetry

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I got thinking about creativity today. about where ideas come from and the process of turning them into a reality. it may seem to be a little strange to create something about creativity but to that i say….Hi i’m will…we’ve obviously not met before

 

the muse

inside my brain the muse comes to life
soothing my mind from creative strife
Finally inspiration is here
my pen starts to scribble, the magic is near
From one lonely spark a fire starts to rage
as words from my head flow onto the page
Ideas are rolling, creation is now
I burn through it all never questioning how
slowly but surely a new place is born
a ghostly outline in a fantasy storm
my wishes and hopes pour into this dream
where the spires will shine and the towers will gleam
the real world is fine for the plain day to day
but sometimes it seems never ending and grey
my mind dreams of colours that shine in the night
when the artist in me can stand up and take flight.
so for now i shall walk through the streets of this land
while my mind wanders halls and palaces grand
my muse may desert me but she will return
for there’s dreams still to build
There’s ideas still to burn

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