Poem 218 – I’m A Winging It Man

                                                                I’m a
winging it man, no pressure, a just in time fella,
you must just trust your guts, no sweat, don’t fret.
We’ll get there in the end if I don’t send
you round the bend before we wend our way
towards our final destination.
                                                            I need
a deadline to demand my desperate
attention, to draw together inspiration.
There’s nothing like a red line in the diary
to generate that sense of do or die and
finally draw together focus.
                                                                    However,
I must remember others work differently than I do
planning out the when and where and why to,
pinpointing places, stages, steps and times.
Maybe, perhaps I ought to be more pliant,
and for our sake give it a try too.

As we head into Advent, in my line of life it begins to get rather busy with deadlines hunting in packs. Sometimes I wish I was one of those more organised types, but I fear I tend towards working on one thing at a time and a lot of flying by the seat of my pants. Whilst I find this last minute chaos generally works for me, I’m aware that those who are of a more thinking ahead of time nature can find it difficult if not infuriating! Right now, I’m living on adrenaline.
This one’s an experiment in over the top, repeated an obvious rhyming. To be spoken aloud and fast.
(25.11.23)

© Ben Quant 2023
Original photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash