Stuck.
Like a truck spinning its wheels
And getting nowhere;
Mud caked and grounded.
There is no movement;
Everything is locked up...
Dried out
Like an uncapped marker.
Shards of ideas intrude but none of them make sense
They skitter;
Like mice when the cat shows up.
I delete what I managed
And peer at the page waiting...
Waiting for some kind of inspiration.
Anything to come.
Take pity on me.
I feel stranded, like a pirate
Grounded after a mutiny
Left to die in a frozen wasteland
That is the glaring white page.
I take up my pen.
Doodle.
Let the ease of nothingness
Soak into me.
As I let go of the stress that holds me bound
Soon my mind follows;
It begins to play...
And before I know it
Images appear...
Sketched in strokes
Of filled in senses;
Things begin to make sense.
And I smile,
Knowing
I have defeated the beast again.
Subject or Theme: Blank-page-itus- dealing with writer's block
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