Posted in Life

An unproductive Sunday

If I were a time or day
I’d be an unproductive Sunday
sleepy with pre-storm glow
wondering where it all goes
deadlines roar thunderous grumbles
flashing my messenger
its quarter to three
all I want is the answer

pretending to write letters
feeling the delete buttons
editing my mind
haunted by the fear
its raining outside
and I am screaming
on the inside

goaded by universal truths
weighing down my confidence
anchoring my thoughts

dreaming of the tomorrows
procrastination’s pal
is hoping for a time out

I am an unproductive Sunday

Inspired by a rather unproductive Sunday. I made a pact with myself to spend Sunday afternoons editing my NaNoWriMo novel, today I failed, as I drowned in plot and blank pages. 



I like to think I'm a story teller. I love stories. I believe the world is filled with stories just waiting to be told and learned. I enjoy travelling down the road less travelled, with my iPhone and journal in each hand. Here you'll find all my poetic musings... Enjoy!

4 thoughts on “An unproductive Sunday

  1. Unproductive days are not only on Sundays, but it is disappointing when you set yourself a goal and it doesn’t happen, though you did get to write the above poem so not all is lost. There’s always next Sunday Charlie.


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