Time waits for no man … so the saying goes. I would add it waits for no woman either. Then I would add it waits for no writer either.
Each of us has the same resource as we begin our day − 24 hours − and like other resources, we can use Time or lose it. Writers are notorious for expending their resource of Time in a variety of ways that have nothing to do with writing. (Perhaps I should add, I’m speaking most emphatically to myself!)
This poem speaks to the Time-usage challenge and while light-hearted in tone, it is also a well-deserved kick to my rear.
Amen, Sista! My house looks like pure tornadic crud lately as I’ve been in a writing season (poetry contest). Even so, I don’t have that much to show for all the time I have supposedly been devoting to poetry. Something is better than nothing, though, right?
Ha! Glad I’m not the only one. With our son and daughter-in-law (much cleaner person than me) and grandson now living with us, I do feel kinda guilty about all the “tornadic crud” here. (Good phrase by the way, aptly describes my crud.) But usually I don’t feel guilty enough to address it … when I’d rather write. Hey, good luck with your contest!
Thanks! It’s the NFSPS. Started doing those again about 15 years ago, mostly to motivate me to keep writing. I need deadlines or my time tends to disappear down the crazy lazy hole of mundane life. Plus the occasional win makes me happy!
Well, good luck with it! I just pulled out a piece (for today’s post) from the 1983 edition of Prize Poems. Can’t believe it’s been so looooonnnnnngggg ago!