Raging Restlessness, Continual Consternation,

My mind is a swirling,

Ideas are whirling,

My brain is unfurling,

Consciousness curling,

Throwing and hurling,

Can I stop what I’m doing?

Slow down the pursuing,

Concentrate and breath,

Do not self-deceive,

Control the belief,

It may give some relief,

But the mind will not stop,

It’s so tired it will drop,

Oh sleep would be nice,

Just once perhaps twice,

Instead I continue,

My body a sinew,

If only it would end,

It might feel heaven sent,

I hope this will work,

Now its not a joke,

Before I erupt,

I am really stumped!

I am not sure if you could call what I write poetry.  It is a blast from my mind, straight onto the page; I do not really think about it, it just happens.  I wonder, do professional poets take an age to write their poetry, do they sit and ponder every word, I presume some do.  This is why I do not classify my verse as poetry; it is just lines of thought.