The tarmac gleams fire of streetlights in shattered ripples of rain thrown up by passing tyres.
I tilt my face up to catch the falling sky and leave my mind in the puddles.
Spoiler! :
Look, I'm really into the rain at the moment, okay. I guess it's because it's raining but it's not cold. Cold rain is the worst.
Just a short poem today, because I was out all evening. That might be a bit of a theme this week, but I still want to get one up every day.
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
Atop the chrome-glass forest, this hazy canopy obscures the glistening heights of geometric giants. In translucent air, all sight is dimmed; colours lose vibrance, shapes definition.
The sky is gone, and the cloud has come upon us.
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
Some days, you watch every second tick past on the clock above the list of timekillers you've made yourself.
Some days, the morning races past in a series of questions answered at other people's desks.
Spoiler! :
A five-minute poem today - but I remembered to cook myself a good dinner when I got in late at least.
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
I always forget to leave some calendar squares white for my battery levels to catch up with all the good things.
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
I know you-- ----in this place among these desks ----trading Kinder egg toys and sharing burritos
I know you-- ----'twixt lines of code and bug reports ----with days to share and reasons to talk
I miss you-- ----already
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
This room is filled with (the heat and the scent and the sound of) excellent half-strangers; my shirt is drenched and I am bouncing on the balls of two aching feet spilling pieces of myself to impress you (hoping that in baring these anxieties I am made relatable rather than weird but I think - I think it's working).
Every moment exquisite exhaustion; I am buzzing with the effort of existing here--
--but please, I don't want it to end.
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
I'm going to go ahead and write some words down anyway.
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
Aw, thanks, Cat! Sorry you have to have these brain arguments, too!
#17
Hand in hand we walk beneath drifting clouds with the sun floating in and out of the sky and we talk of everything and nothing.
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
So much of my life sits in this bright box five inches to a diagonal and barely half a centimetre deep.
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
Above dark rooves and silhouetted trees dusky blue seeps down to the horizon, melting through gold into pastel pink. With every window thrown wide, the breeze gently bears me relief from heat, the sweet scent of warm earth and the trills of blackbird's evensong.
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
Can you ever write too much about good weather? Pristine blue skies baking the pavement, sitting out in a T-shirt after dark, relishing every second of warmth (before it all turns to drizzle again).
Spoiler! :
I am sitting on my balcony at night in a T-shirt and no socks. Those of you from warmer climates may not realise quite how incredible this is for us denizens of a grey and rainy island
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
Sat at your computer fifteen hundred miles from here still it seems that I can hear you speaking loud and clear; can't recall how long it is since we were face to face, can't predict how long until we land in the same place.
Spoiler! :
Needs a second stanza, but it's late.
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
Roses are red Parties are fun This poem's a cop-out But I still got it done
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
A rare event: fifteen people in my flat and I - - I am not hiding from them. I have summer and a smile, a glass of sugar syrup, citrus, soda (and gin) and it has not slid me into sadness. They laugh, I laugh; we trade on punchlines and I am not worried for anyone.
It's nice to remember I can love them all.
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
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