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Dear Mr. Block
Folder:
Poetic Princess Dear Mr. Block:
Fanatical infiltration plagues me
Damn near daily
However...
I'm on some other shit
Keeping my guard up
My vulnerability in tact
Waiting for the truth
Truth
So I can write a fuckin poem
For everyone's ear
to hear
My hands are petrified
And my mind is bemused
blank
And for some damn reason
My heart produces no ink
And no man fabricates inspiration
My pen has since dried
My paper
now a relic
I can't read poetry
I can't hear poetry
And fuck!
I can't write poetry!
I curse you Writer's Block!
The impedance you instigate
I want my ability back
So I don't have to write to
Your ass anymore
Peace & Poeticness,
Poet
Godammit it so true! I recently went on this writing binge and now suddenly I can't think of ANYTHING! I'm staring at a blank notebook finding it easier to see what happens when you spray large amounts of deodorant on a single page. Have you got any tips for a writer dying in my own self-loathing. Swing by my guestbook and give me some wisdom if you can.
LOL... Loved this. Plus, I feel you, Mr. Block is forever stalking those with pen. And if it's not him ... it's his boy "Forgotten Thought."
Ill scribe!
Peace and Blessings
POE