I Don't Know What to Write, So....

I have this ritual that I'm trying to maintain: writing one entry each Sunday for this blog.  The trouble is, sometimes I just don't know what to write.  Well, that's not quite true.  Most of the time, I know exactly what I want to write, and I am even uber-prepared for those rare times when I am feeling uninspired (drafts of posts to complete later).  But today, none of those drafts of pre-conceived notions appeal to me. 

And so I sit

at this computer,

WAITING

for inspiration to come.

So far, aside from the idea of doing a little stream-of-consciousness babbling, this blog still seems a bit uninspired.

But wait! There's more!

I posted a little poem on my Facebook entry today:

It's cold outside, but the sun is bright.
The coffee pot has died, and this poem ain't right.

This is a Dylanesque (as in Bob Dylan) poem--as some of my Facebook "friends" seemed to note. Writing and posting it made me feel better about the death of our coffee pot.  It isn't great poetry; know that.  So the comment about how I shouldn't quit my day job was, I felt, kinda' inappropriate--not inappropriate in a bad way.  I just felt misunderstood (like an inarticulate teenager feels when she's not really trying that hard to state anything profound, and yet still hopes it comes off that way, just the same).

Must poetry be great in order to make one happy?
What's wrong with writing something a little crappy?
I believe I will aspire to be a bad poet.
I hope that I don't blow it.
Sometimes a bad day deserves bad poetry.
What's the crime in that?