writer's block


There comes a time,

when nothing fits,

nothing works. 

It is in this time

that words seem lost,

and ideas evade.

What shall be done?

How to take the 

cork out of the bottle?

Perhaps a walk, a jog,

and a jump will suffice

to shake it loose. 

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Fickle Bitch

My Fickle Bitch

My first thought, "Fuck you,
you Fickle Bitch",
as you flash that coquettish smile,
slinking in with catlike grace,
unfazed by my dismay.
I wait for you, pen in hand,
never asking where you've been
when you leave me desolate, alone;
barren, bare, striped to the mystical poetic bone;
tormented by your absence -
and then you stumble in,
giddy to find me
grateful at your return,
watching as those
spiteful thoughts melt
with your merest smile,
knowing all is forgiven,
without apology.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Dedicated to the Muse

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Writer's Block

Free Flow

Dreams flow off my temple
Slide through an hour glass
Like sand blowing in the wind
Catching the very reminiscent
Of uncharted memories
Attacking the soul
Plunging deep spiritual wells
That dwell deep with in your being
Where that good shit flows
You know those verse that hurt
Yeah those that also step on your toes
Writer's block can be a bitch at times
When you search your inner core
Something is bound to pour
Out on these pages
That will leave you wondering
Just where that came from
So keep your pens held high
As God intercedes
The ink will fall
As you listen to your soul bleed
Now Writer's block is extinct

(c) 2012 Cassandra Evolutionsofpoetry Covington

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Writers block 125384648399716367282


Shit I've got writers block, but -
Oh no! It's gone...
Shit I've got writers block, I -
Oh no it's gone...
Shit I've got writers block, still -
Oh no it's gone...
Shit I've got writers block, manage -
Oh no it's gone...
Shit I've got writers block, to -
Oh no it's gone!...
Shit I've got writers block, write, write -
Oh no it's gone...
Shit I've got writers block, something -
Oh no it's gone...
Shit I've got writers block, hypocritically -
Oh shit it's done!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Ispired by the others gone before ;)

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I Think Not

I’ll probably

Discard this piece

Recycle and reuse

These words

Give them away to


Value Village


The Sally Ann

Is this what you want to read?

Does it cause you to think?

Will you pick up

My bits and pieces,

My dropped articles

Witty prose

Unfinished poetry

That I threw aside

Find them a new home

One befitting

Their purpose

Give them a new life

A new meaning?

I Think Not.

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When Nothing Makes Sense

The sky fell today,
The clouds bled and dripped,
The sun cracked in half.

The darkness got me,
The terror struck me.
But I don't know what's going on.

Writing between the lines.
I'm not making any sense,
Or am I?
Speaking in the language of silence,
Reading minds, not lips.
The angels chase me,
The demons save me,
I just can't get to the big picture.

The world snapped like a twig today,
Cracked like an egg,
Ate me whole.
And I still can't make sense of the words I wrote down.
When the point is hidden,
When the story don't make no sense,
You have to write between the lines.
Write the story
As you would tell it.

We're all mad.
Everything's insane.
Just the same thing
And over
And over.
And I still can't make this poem make sense.
Maybe I just need,
To write what isn't in my head,
To read what I can't find.
To write
For the sake of writing.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Please ignore the fact that all the letters at the start of each line are capitalized, my computer was doing that for some reason and I couldn't shut it off.

Can't Rhyme Inspiration



Can't Rhyme Inspiration

Nothing rhymes with inspiration.
Well, yes, I know that's not true,
I know there's many words out there
but my mind isn't working right.

Writer's block,
the dreaded disease.
I can't write a thing,
a word is just a word today,
ain't got a single meaning.

Nothing rhymes with inspiration,
nothing at all today.
Nothing in my mind is clicking,
I just can't write that poem.

I scan the world outside my window,
looking for that simple word
that's stuck behind my mind.
I just can't see that light.

My mind is running far too slow,
the time keeps ticking by.
Why can't I remember?
Why can't I think?
Nothing's flowing right.

Nothing rhymes with inspiration
so I rest my head against the wall
and sigh with deep exasperation-

-My writer's block just ended.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just a little poem about those days where you can't even make the simplest words rhyme. Writer's block, my long-time enemy.

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"Empty Page Limerick"

by Jeph Johnson


An empty page
entices rage
drawing the ink's flow.
When it's down
my thoughts turn 'round
and rest; where do they go?


To understand
what this hand
has placed upon this page
I must think back
fend off attack
for now my mind has changed.

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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