This is Poem I wrote when I was starting to suffer from writer’s block during the Covid lockdown
UNTIL it hit me it was just a joke
Something that happened to other folk
If it happened at all
And I was not just in thrawl
To some confected scare
A sort of of malade imaginaire
Who would dare to go to the doc
To complain about suffering from writer’s block?
But I did and he was quite emphatic
It was likely, he said, psychosomatic
Tell me the symptoms, he asked, with a hint of a mock
While he glanced I think at a nearby clock
I said in a bid to clear his doubt:
“There are words inside me that won’t come out”
Ok he said with a knowing grin:
“Take this twice daily, this aspirin
I’ll write a prescription said the doubting doc
Unless, of course, I get writer’s block”.
This was the first version that the artificial intelligence brain GatGPT produced when i simply asked it to write a poem about writer’s’ block . . .
Writer’s block, a foe so mean
A battle I cannot seem to win
Words once free, now trapped inside
My mind a blank, my pen denied
Inspiration gone, I search in vain
For that spark to set my brain ablaze
Days turn to weeks, my page remains bare
My thoughts a maze, no path to share
But I won’t give up, I’ll fight this fight
For writing’s my passion, my guiding light
I’ll wait for that muse, to visit me once more
And pour out my soul, onto this page for sure.
I then asked it to put more rhymes in . . .
A writer’s block, a curse so real
A challenge that I cannot steal
Words locked up, with no release
My mind a void, my pen at peace
A muse is gone, no more to show
The path to follow, for my words to flow
Days turn to weeks, with nothing done
My page is blank, my pen is gone
But I won’t surrender, I’ll win this war
For writing’s my joy, my heart’s open door
I’ll wait for that muse, to return to me
And pour out my soul, for all to see
Very impressive I have to say
