
Chattering, wriggling, niggling
The monkey on my shoulders
Can’t keep still
You’re too lazy…
Your dreams are foolish fantasies…
They’ll never happen…
Why bother trying?
Your mind is too blunt…
Will too weak…
Thought after thought
chases its tail – restless, futile
Lost in undergrowth
Remember when you…
And when you failed to…
It’ll happen again…
Only if they…
Or if you can avoid…
But what if…
You ought to…
Why can’t you ever stop…
You really must…
Pen against paper
Whispers a subtle lullaby… until
the monkey sleeps
The nagging voices
The ghosts of old memories
Fall sweetly silent
And the mind
No longer monkey-scattered
Writes.
Lives.
Now.
For me there is a real magic in writing. Somehow it focusses me, calms me, and allows me to focus very clearly and purely on something. Sometimes so much that I forget to eat, or ignore the fact that my feet are getting cold and I ought to put slippers on.
When I first started blogging my mind was churning with endless thoughts and reflections on my old relationship. Hopes and fears and if-only’s made the space in my head feel untidy and uncomfortable. But writing settled down the churn a bit, allowed me to take individual strands and explore them until they stopped bothering me. So that I could move forward, rather than round and round in circles.
And when I saw the prompt on readwritepoem, to write a poem about being in the moment, I wanted to find a way to convey this feeling. I’ve also tried my hand at a lune chain for the first time. You can read how other poets have responded to the same prompt here.
Oh, and the photo is one I took a few weeks ago – her face seems so innocent that it seems unfair to attach her to this poem, but I couldn’t resist sharing it. And the monkey mind often pretends to be sweet, innocent, and on our side!