Monday August 10th, 2009

The exercise:

Today's prompt: stop thinking, start doing.

Inspired by yesterday's feel good day of getting the crap done around the house.

Mine:

You can think all you like
About stepping to the mic;
Keep listening to your lies -
That it's not fear in disguise,
You just want to be prepared.

But until you stand up there,
With the spotlight in your stare,
We will know it's all just talk
And the reason that you balk
Is simple: you're straight up scared.

4 Comments:

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

I've been told,
more than
once,
that I think too much.

And I agree.

My thoughts can be verbose,
and words often jam up the gears
of the mind
from taking action.

I make them overly complex,
working on that mountain
where the molehill
should be.

"Just go,"
they say.
I try, but it
doesn't
always
work.
- - - - -
How 'bout some before-bed free verse for ya this evening?

Marc said...

That sounds just fine to me :)

I particularly liked this bit:

"I make them overly complex,
working on that mountain
where the molehill
should be."

Greg said...

Stop thinking, start doing

"What's he doing?" whispered Dr. Septopus, leaning closer to Sylvestra.
"It looks like he's thinking," she whispered back after checking that Dr. Septopus wasn't trying to peer down her cleavage.
"Thinking about what, for God's sake?" Dr. Septopus's whisper became more of an agitated hiss. "We're robbing a bank, in case he hadn't noticed. Why the hell is he thinking?"
Sylvestra shrugged. "Maybe he spotted a sign he thinks has a misspelling or grammatical error in?"
"Dear, sweet, zombie Jesus! There'll be a superhero here any moment to try to stop us, and he's just standing there thinking! Why did I ever let him join us?"
"I keep asking you the same question."
One of the bank's customers nervously lifted their head up, peering around the room. Sylvestra's hand twitched, and her gun fired. The roar of the shot was loud in the enclosed space, and the spatter from the ex-customer sounded like early spring rain.
Dr. Septopus flapped his tentacles and clacked his beak, and finally, losing all patience, shrieked at the Green Lightbulb,
"Stop thinking and start doing!"
A vaguely constipated look crossed the Green Lightbulb's face, and he said slowly, "I need the toilet."

Marc said...

Haha, awesome Greg!

"Dear, sweet, zombie Jesus!"