Today’s Ask is Today’s Task?
What? Am I to write today?
Shall it be from a moment in my travels?
Or will it be from a kindly-offered prompt?
Poetry? Dialogue? A Short Story? A N Other?
Will it be funny?
Or shall I eschew the humour?
I await Notification from above, or around.
More about Stewart Taylor.
Stewart Taylor spoke into his loud-inhaler, “Come out, come out, wherever you are; with your hands held high – we have you surrounded!”
Which was a lie – there was nobody above them, and nobody below them; they could have escaped either way.
Stewart turned to his second-in-command and asked the age-Old question, “Why are we here? I don’t mean ‘here’ as in ‘here’, but ‘here’ as in ‘here’. Unluckily – or luckily, depending on how lucky things were – his second-in-command was an Ikea bookcase, a one Billy Flat-Pack, who rarely, if ever, swayed in the breeze enough to say anything contentious. Billy was currently being silent on this, as upon all matters.
Stewart spoke into his loud-inhaler once more, “You do know that I have better things to do on a Saturday morning than surround a crooked operation like yours?”
There was still an unearthly silence from the empty building.
Things were likely to get out of hand if nobody intervened – nobody did.
Three weeks later, Stewart turned himself in for the wasting of time in a built up episode of town.
The judge was lenient and sentenced him to two paragraphs.
“I had an idea.”
I had an idea
a brilliant idea
for a poem
or a story
or how to solve World Poetry
(or ‘Poverty’, probably);
then I lost it;
I didn’t back it up in my memory bank;
or scribble a note for later –
I have the idea no longer,
and only a vague notion
that it was not about suntan lotion.
Well, it happens to me.
Sometimes, the idea returns.
Well, once in a moon that is blue.
Never mind, it’s ‘on with the day!’
“What do you do…?”
What do you do
when you have no words
but somewhere to put them;
but nowhere to put them;
don’t have words
nowhere to put them
even if you did have them?
Wait for the time
when you have words
somewhere to put them?
My Prompt For Today?
Where is my prompt for today?
The thing that will jump into my path –
It must be on its way.
The anticipation is eagerly anticipated,
the expectation is expected soon;
shall it be brought by the bounteous birds
who sing by the light of the Moon?
Nah! Too late for that, the Dawn Chorus has passed us by.
How about when I’m walking the dogs, I can be found on the lanes;
inspiration can hit me then,
or at least the inkling of an idea,
a morsel, a tidbit, some grains.
Oh, where is my prompt for today?
I am a writer..
And, yet, I didn’t write anything today.
Or this week.
In fact, the whole of this month-
and the one before-
are completely writing free.
It doesn’t bother me.
That’s because I am a writer.
Writing is what I do.
Or don’t do-
If you see?
Writing means the world to me.
It’s a life-choice, not a hobby.
Writing is everything.
And, yet, I have written nothing today.
“Carry On Writing!”
Sid walked into the room.
Kenneth, Kenny and Babs were sat at various tables reading the latest script
Babs has been cast as Elizabeth the First, Sid as Sir Really Rather-a-Wally, Kenneth as Lord Waltzinghome and Kenny as King Philip the Poor Second of Spain. The guest actor who was to be portraying a youngish William Shakeshaft was Ian Lavender.
The script called for many doublet-entendres and a smattering of smut and innuendo. This was obviously no surprise.
“To be or not to be…” exclaimed Ian, as he entered the room.
“Is this a dagger that I see before me?” Asked Babs. “Not ‘arf!” she laughed raucously.
It was going to be another one of those days.