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Poems to Warm Up By... with a Sprinkle of 'Tude

 When you find the coffee hasn't quite kicked in yet to write on your current work in progress but your fingers need to pounce keys... and your mood needs to kick butt.

"The Learning Curve" by B. J. Thompson

I flick it
I kick it
The learning curve
The willy-nilly,
silly, wittle learning curve
The Tech Age's upon me,
The know-how beyond me
Oh, woes me, with the learning curve

The coding, their previews,
They never show up right
It's enough to give me ulcers
In my ever-loving plight
I stare at my screen
'til the light grows dim
I'm no further ahead
and with much less vim
I hate, hate, hate the learning curve
Now, don't get me wrong,
The knowing, I like showing
But I hate, hate, hate the learning curve.
Bugs pop up here,
And alarms go off there
Nothing lines up right
It's a bloody awful fight
I freakin' hate hate hate
the learning curve
In a godforsaken panic,
I Click Help!, I'm almost manic
The tech guy gives a sigh
And I cry, cry, cry
Oh, so I cry.
Knowledge, I don't flight
But I fear the days-long fight
And I'm tired
and I hate the learning curve
Oh Lord, Jesus,
Could it be?
I think I'm done
The end, I see
It was not a bit of fun
And the days, they have so spun
But I think I'm through,
I do so coo,
That learning curve.
More grey hairs, they so abound
And all reason's gone to ground
I mourn the loss of time
And online, I whine, whine, whine
That "stoopid" learning curve
Alas, my gadgets glitter!
In the end,
The wine bottles litter
And the alcohol does bitter
my mind, mind, mind
Thanks a bunch,
You stinkin' learning curve.


"The Tired Writer"  by B. J. Thompson

A full night's sleep,
Little toss 'n' turning.
Now a promise,
I must keep.

There's no excuse.
No lack of joe,
And in the eve,
The wine does flow.
It's time to write, man.
Get the word count in,
No time for foolin'
No more way to win.
No one around me,
The dog house is bare,
Just me, my laptop, and a lonely chair.
It's a vision seen,
The work to be done
The bullshit stops,
Til the typing is won.
Yes, I'm damn tired,
Oh hell, I'm damn beat,
But there's no plot fire,
With no word heat.
Can grunt 'n' groan
And bitch out loud
But what's the point
If no story's found.
Yep, it's time to type, man,
Bloody tired or not,
The life of a writer,
It ain't so hot.