Inspiration is for amateurs
So said John C Clarke
I guess I must be dabbling
Cos I’m waiting for the spark

The whoosh of frenzied fervour
As an idea finds its hold
Thoughts sharpened to a fine point
as the nib pours liquid gold

Words that paint a picture
almost on their own
Coaxed from out the ether
to make this page their home

A flash within the pan
An almost Freudian slip
When I said I am a poet
But what came out was I am shit

When the light has filtered through 
I’m returned to shades of grey
Eyes scan verses with the hope
of finding some that will hold sway

Alas, these ones are light
A puff of humid air
No poignancy adds substance
No contention finds a care

I guess he had it right
That wise old Johnny Clark
I’m a rhyming poet dilettante
waiting in the dark

Thanks for joining me for another Sunday rhyme time. I have my mother in law to thank for pointing me in the right direction for this week’s inspiration in the form of a Guardian article on legendary spoken word poet John Cooper Clarke. If you haven’t come across his work before I can highly recommend him, a very funny man who clearly works hard at his job.