Tuesday, 14 December 2010

The Grey Months

This poem was written so the crazy people who enjoy my poetry get a look inside my head. It's a dark place sometimes.

The Grey Months

Alas! The Grey Months are approaching.
I sense them looming on my mind’s horizon.
And I tremble as they smother my imagination.

For The Grey Months are coming
A time when my inspiration falls
The flame flickers and dies
Swamped by the dreariness of failure.

The months when Octaboona cannot write
His emotions can’t find their thoughts
Nor the thoughts their words.

My soul abandoned on barren plains
Bereft of poetry.
Where I do not listen to the world
But try and invent one.

Trapped behind mundane bars
Guarded by The Sentinels
Who suppress my emotion
Dismember my thoughts
And shatter my spirit.

The books are burnt
Reduced to heaps of ash
That scatter in the wind
That blows in The Grey Months

The sky of my mind is overcast
With swollen blackened clouds
That overcast any seeds
That try to grow.

My imagination rots
A putrid, musty thing
Encased in the dust
Of inactivity.

Yet all it takes is a spark
To power up my brain
The thoughts flow in torrents
As my mind lights up
A shining beacon of splendour
That grows and inspires.

Yet The Grey Months
Banished to a dark corner
Wait patiently
For their return.


  1. FABULOUS!!!!! Simply DIVINE OCtaboona the way you write!
    I do hope the grey months do not happen to you Octaboona! :)

  2. Reminds me of my writers block :S

    Great work, yet again sir :)

  3. No no no! *beats gray months with karate*