This deserves a brandy!


C. J. Black

I’m on the lookout for a prompt to set me on my way
For believe me when I tell you I have nothing positive to say.

Walking from room to room, scratching my head and hoping
That inspiration will strike me hard, get me out of this moping.

The weather, as a barometer definitely puts you in no mood –
Nor will it brighten up the spirit let that be understood.

Rain running down the window pane in absolute rivulets
More plentiful I imagine than in war were French Miquelets.

Thrown a lifeline you go searching for a word to rhyme
Such as the word Miquelets, this has taken me some time.

For rivulets, in relation to orange is more difficult to rhyme by far
I now know there were irregular soldiers during the Peninsular war.

If your interest is now piqued and you are wondering, hmmm where should I start?
Try the Peninsular war 1808 – 1814 and Napoleon Bonaparte.

Before this poem gets a life of its own and completely out of hand
I am now putting an end to it, for this is not what was planned.

Which is contradictory, yes you’re right to think that way
For I did state at the outset I had nothing positive to say.

Fancy if I had an idea just what I might compose?
This is far easier and more fun I confess, than trying to write prose.

C. J. Black©β
Monday 20th October 2014

Never turn a blind eye.


C. J. Black

When your patience is growing thin
And your situation appears – no win
What is your attitude in such a situation?
Do you half-heartedly admit, I am the poor relation?

Thinking those who are further up the food chain
Always have a better chance, always have more to gain
Or perhaps you say to yourself grab the bull by the horns
There are fields of gold to be found, discard this crown of thorns.

Positivity is something we all need to teach ourselves
Or else we will be left feeling as useless as would be three-legged gazelles’
Some of us have a tendency for long period naval gazing
Consequently, the early bird, will profit from such grazing.

From laying down these words what have I learned?
Only that promises get broken and bridges do get burned.
C. J. Black©β Sunday, 12 October 2014

A poem addressed to my-self.


C. J. Black.
I certainly hope these words are not all in vain.
What? You ask – you know what, the pain –
The churning feeling that you get
You want to write, nothing happens, you fret.

This may not be how it was meant to be
When you sat to write a piece of poetry?
There were times when you did not need to rehearse
You now find you can’t write a line, never mind write a verse.

Sitting alone without an idea, you now find demoralising?
With that defeatist attitude – should you find that surprising?
It’s not something that can be easily defined
When you’re feeling low you’re not really inclined.

But out of this state of mind you will snap
Not fall deeper into this emotional trap
Negative thinking, don’t allow it win out
Turn on positivity – the seed sown will soon sprout.

Keep the head up and the nose to the grindstone
Your muse will return, you’ll not be alone
Writing should not be a lonely profession?
It should be for fun and not an obsession?

For some, writing has become their existence
Remember your sanity, to hell with resistance
If you find writing is becoming a chore
Should you consider capping the ink well, for fear of becoming a bore?

C. J. Black∁β
Monday, 06 October 2014

I had a great holiday, thank you.



  1. C. J. Black

Once you write the first word down you are on your way

You will find it gets so much easier once you have something to say

There is no one but you knows that it’s been weeks since you’ve dipped your quill

But now that you’ve dipped it in ink it will do your will

So knuckle down there’s work to do you have a poem to write

It’s time to forget that holiday and put this wrong to right

It matters not if it’s convoluted and is not making a whole lot of sense

At least you’re taking positive steps and not sitting on the fence

The light bulb, has once again began to shed its light

The jigsaw is beginning to take shape, be upbeat not contrite

Finish now if you wish – you have your mojo back

This was what you’d class a derailment of sorts but now you’re back on track?

Ok I’ll admit it, this has not been an easy time

I am not wholly satisfied with this effort, but at least there’s a semblance of rhyme?

  1. C.J. Black©β

Thursday, 02 October 2014

Classified Information!



  1. C. J. Black


I’m retiring now to my palace of wisdom?

Intoxicated by words, not at all tongue tied

Perhaps we could all assemble and create our own Fiefdom?

Probably a daft idea on my part – I’ll leave that for you to decide.


Writing I believe is as complex as you make it

Or am I being too flippant by making such a remark?

Once you put your mind to it I’m sure there is no limit –

To what can be achieved once you ignite the spark.


Never having been coached in the art of writing

I often wonder if I had been, what could I have achieved?

Perhaps I could have written something Novel or exiting?

Retiring now in my palace of wisdom, feeling quite relieved.


  1.    C. J. Black©β





Inspired by a poem.


C. J. Black

I dreamed one night that I might-
Write a piece of poetry to delight-
Delight, just me alone
Before words evaporate and are gone.

Disappeared into the mist of time
To be swallowed up in a fog of rhyme
Time is of the essence so I must press on
Before I awake from my slumber and find my poem has flown.

Quality not quantity is what the reader wants
None of your flamboyant writing, none of your fancy fonts
Re-read what you have written, to myself I continue to preach
Yet I know this rule of thumb I continuously breach.

Not the easiest thing to do – teach an old dog a new trick
A solid base is what is required, then build it brick on brick
Then mysteriously it will evolve into a form of verse
To get it right remember – rehearse, rehearse, rehearse.

Attempting to write outside your comfort zone
Something in technicolour instead of plain two-tone
What was in the mind of Samuel Taylor Coleridge – really what was his initial plan?
When he sat down and penned the immortal ‘Kubla Khan’

Did his words ebb and flow like that *sacred river?
That opening line – *In Xanadu did Kubla Khan, etched in the mind forever
A master class in poetry of which I can but dream
A man whom I much admire and hold in high esteem.

Perhaps one day when I go to *that dome in the air
Not that it worries me – not that I despair
That someone might remark – in his writing he took cover
So be careful where you tread – who knows where his ghost might hover.
*Words / lines from Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem Kubla Khan.

C. J. Black©β

Expose yourself to the reader.


C. J. Black

Words should flow freely through my quill
I should not be writing against my will.

But that is how it is this night
Is there comfort for my plight?

My den can be such a lonely place
I must write something to fill this blank space.

I know once I set my mind to writing
Something will emerge, it may not be overly exciting.

If it were, now there would be a plus
This would leave me feeling quite nonplussed.

At this point, with the candle melting slow
Filled with what could only be described as an inner glow

A burning desire you might say, to satisfy this need
Failure, not being part of my vocabulary – means I will succeed.

So, now as I sit – a word in your shell like ear
Never allow it enter your head – that dreaded word called fear.

Words will flow freely through your quill
You’ll write with confidence, not against your will.

With this proverb I am at one –
“Well begun is half done”

Cha Sara Sara.

C. J. Black©β
31/08/2014 22:23:35