MR.INSPIRATION

Inspiration, the unforeseen guest 

Slips through the cracks of the bolted door 

In the minute for sleep 

In the second after a heartbreak 

You kiss his cheeks as you grab a pen 

To write down the words on your hands 

Words trickle into you nose 

Like the aroma of freshly baked cookies. 

 

The inspiration is here so you sit 

To welcome it into its new lodging 

You wait for it to reply, react and respond 

You wait 

You wait for minutes, hours and even days 

But Mr. Inspiration could not bother 

A word written but then erased 

Hand frozen with the pencil

Waiting for Mr. Inspiration to make its move.

 

Mr. inspiration is to be birthed 

Oozing it out the body into your own baby 

Takes pain, blood and torn emotions 

Wailing through nights of despair 

Hands garnished of blood with 

The beds furnished with tears 

The creation of something beautiful 

Is never easy. 

 

But even after its bloom 

There is the need to nurture

Pour milk into its mouth during the wails 

Rock it along the daily routines 

Sit and Stare while it naps soundly 

Leaving you empty 

Oh ! how we hate those little devils sometimes 

For their drawings on the walls 

And their art with nutritious food. 

And oh ! we can’t live without them 

 

Mr. Inspiration comes uninvited 

But never says a word 

He longs to jump into the refreshments 

On the living room table 

But cannot 

For he needs your consent first.

So, ask yourself, 

Am I ready to write.