Writer’s Block


With the sun making love to my back
&the wind pulling a smile onto my face,
I feel the need
To retrieve
My pen&paper
&write to the waves
For as they behave
I become their slave
Because the song they sing
Makes me want to obey…

So I humbly wait
For inspiration to come
Because the sight before me
Cannot be undone
Yet, as the tip of my pen hits my sheet of paper,
The expected arrival of words
Is stopped short b/c the only thing heard
Are overlapping waves…
I wait for my mind’s acquiescence
I wait for my minds imagination
My minds flow,
But emptiness fucks my mind
&what it created is that
That I wish would slowly rot…
Reincarnate itself into something Sought,
Something that isn’t….

So now my palms are getting clammy
My skin has gotten sweaty
&I’m trying with all my might
To turn this beautiful sight
Into my light
But I can’t…
because my mind is blocked.

A poet’s number 1 curse has found me
&it has decided to rest in my thought
Turning everything into knotts,
Causing me to choke on my words
Like i’ve got a

Now, as I pretend to be Dr.Seuss in my mind
Trying to rhyme
Or you&too,
I come to terms with the fact that
This poem will not get written,
For it is I that has been bitten.
But next time, fuck you writer’s block
For you may have won this round..
But never again will you make another Sound.

– I wrote this when I was 17&four years later, it is just as relevant in my creative life as it was then. Hope I’m not the only who gets bitten by the bug from time to time!


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