Old Man Ribber, naught but thin air?
Reading your groan: cannot write; no insight; need a shove, do?
Listen to your brain; it's saying:
"Keep on with those word-plays, playing"
"This song, you know it, so go 'head and blow it, you'll love to!"

Old Man Ribber,

Riff three times on the same song if you want to
Twice is alright; surely one more to go
All you writers:
[Pun] [Pun] [Pun] on the same song 'cause it's fun to
But for TT: Do three hundred? Uh, no!

If you sit at your puter tonight
Starting to sing at the notes that you just ripped apart
Look at OS you have shredded
Already in your head, embedded
Spawning some new schemes; let prats fall; your genius, go and start!

Do repeat, Yes!
Riff three times on the same song; it's so easy
Pacing is right; it's an OS you know
Listen, writers!
Seven times: grumpy, happy, dopey, sleazy
Jump on Snow White; make three dents in the "Snow"!

[Interlude -- lots of knocking, perhaps on the ceiling, but hopefully, not knocking "up"]

Oh, let us see your wit displaying
Tell us of the sheep you're laying
Once floored, you'll show me
Great writing, bestow me
I love it!

Writer's Block-heads:
Riff three times on an OS you have done to
Let it get ripe; to "submit" box, you go
(We'll love you! We'll love you! We'll love you)
Screw discreetness!
Knock shock schlock: endless inspiration all day
Slice up some tripe? C'mon, do just one mo'!