Writer’s
Block
Type,
tip, tap
Delete
Blank
slate, blackboard….fingernails? No! No! NO!
Tip,
tap, letters, spaces.
The
sinking cursor raps on blinking brain.
Space.
Sentence. Sort of.
A
pewful of uncomfortable dustbunnies praying for a point.
delete,
delete, delete
Why
me, O Muse? For how long must I trudge through
this
bog of fuzzy fancies?
Words
fail to describe how desolate my mind
Perhaps
these words do
An
ocean without silvery fish
A
colorless rainbow
A
fairy princess stuck in a mire of grey words
And
I, the only one to save them, have lost my palette.
Paintbrush?
How will it end: a painter who has lost his paintbrush?
The
writer without words.
An
idea, like a bird
Flitting
across an expanse of blue
Fluttering,
hovering, escaping from my grasp
A
hopeful idea, so close but out of reach
If
only I could catch that bird!
I’d
keep it in a cage
And
let it perch on my page
It
would lend me many feathers
And I
would feed it on ink and paper
And
give it a name like Dolphin Swim
or
No Name
Such
a little bird.
Look
at it, one small moving object in a still sky
Wait
a minute...IT’s GROWING LARGER!
A
purple bird of paradise
My
cage wouldn’t hold it.
It
was born to be free.
As I
admire the beauty of this...Animal?
Why,
it’s NO bird!
It’s
a story of a writer who has found words
by
letting an idea take the shape
of a
story
Entered in the Arts and Alliance of Yamhill County Paper Garden Poem Contest.
