first spurt

where’s food for thought
bread has staled with festive glut
am slothful now and abstinent

unease grows amongst the quiet
only an urge to knuckle dust
the Muse and stir and turn about

tutting with that impatient
timpani of first finger and fist
stuck for words in a doldrum drift

of sea or snow, suspended in frost
where the curt letter-pressed prompt
cannot extricate the animate

even picking over an abstract
still blank imaginings abort
lithe lexiconic movement

oh! dry gerontic thought *
the medium’s unseasonably wet
this the first spurt
© Laura Granby 2015

*reference to Eliot’s lines ‘Thoughts of a dry brain in a dry season.’ [Gerontion]

Utilising the alliterative brevity of ‘t’ sounds to demonstrate the poet’s tussle in this first versifying attempt of 2016 and so enter into the resourceful riches of Poetry Pantry



  1. For your first tussle this is very creative Laura…love the t-sounds, and the opening lines create a vivid picture of that slothful sense I get when my brain won’t engage…also loved:

    ‘unease grows amongst the quiet
    only an urge to knuckle dust
    the Muse and stir and turn about’

    It does create frustration for me when I cannot get the words to make music on the page. I have found I am now creating in batches when the spirit is willing and the brain is firing.


  2. This poem definitely flowed trippingly (t-t-t-t) on my tongue. Indeed bread can stale ‘with festive glut.’ If you are speaking about being ‘stuck for words’ in the new year, I definitely can identify! Enjoyed the ‘spurt.’


  3. You definitely knuckle dusted the muse in this! The t sounds are wonderful to read aloud…like a drum rhythm moving the poem along. I didn’t take a break during the holidays but can definitely identify when the muse remains silent and distant. I think you are on a definite rule started by the spurt.

    Liked by 1 person

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