I found a cache of poems I’ve written so I’ll share a few. Unfortunately, since I’ve mostly written for me I can’t readily find my writings. And no, they can’t be recreated. Most just pour out of me so once written they have accomplished their mission.
I remember hearing John Lennon say once that he would wake up in the middle of the night with these complete ideas. So loud in his head he had to get up and write.
My poem that follows was conceived when speaking to my friend Ed P. while we were both driving to work early one morning and talking about our life dreams. All he said was, “well I’m halfway to Blaine.” In my head I heard it with a southern twang like a country song title. Which is really funny as he has a distinct British accent.
Halfway to Blaine
I’m halfway to Blaine and you laugh at my pain
To toil and work at a place that has never shown you grace
The twang of the song is brought to mind; makes me chuckle at your early morning rush
Speeding the dreary highway and hoping the blue lights and sirens will be hush
I’m halfway to Blaine and should be halfway from; for this is not the beat of your drum or a tune you can hum
You do what you do with the main goal in mind, it’s nearly in sight
Which is not close to Blaine but but can be found in the night