A poem about writer’s block written while I had writer’s block

I have no idea what to write

The pen is dry, the mind a blank

The block in the imagination is real

The world I seek unseen, unheard

My mind’s eye seeks glimmers

A wisp of thought, a drop of words

Shapes that should be familiar

Colors abound beyond my grasp

They flow in streams about me

A painting of the mind uncanvas’d.

The music brings nothing

The Muted Muse sings a void

I am disconnected




Walled in

Locked out

Utterly Apart from my creations

I sit on the edge of the chasm of my imagination

I look across, and I see it all

Characters clear as flame

Stories and plots staged for a creator

Enticing and teasing strips of ideas

But the bridge is out

This is the curse of Writer’s Block

This is the greatest curse that could be borne

My imagination full to the brim

The mind is empty.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s