Writer's Blockage

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 18, 2018

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Submitted: July 18, 2018

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Writer's block is the end of the line A blank sheet at the top of a towering stack of blank sheets It is the bottom of the bag, the dry well It resounds with the scraping of raw empty cavern walls It is the what's left? the who's next? the why now? And the how could I? It says "you are out of ideas and full of reasons to give up" Writer's block happens when the mind is empty and questionless I have never had writer's block but I have had writer's blockage If writer's block is the end of the line then writer's blockage is a hundred lines tied in a knot A million words and only one blank sheet of paper in a dusty typewriter It is the bottleneck, the clogged drain It echoes with the indistinguishable voices of a room full of people trying to be heard It is the cat's got your tongue, the stumbling, the stuttering, the stopping and the sputtering It says, "you have so much to say and no place to start" Writer's blockage happens when my hands can't type fast enough to sentences. I have never had writer's block but I have had writer's blockage I've had enough "inspiration" to make me sick I've had a fountain of ideas flowing behind my frozen hands ever since I had the keys to type them and the keys to play them What I need is the keys to free them What I need is for you to see them My pen is my voice and my voice is my pen So why am I shouting when I could be writing? Why am I Snapping when I should be singing? The mouth of the river grows gradually The knot is untangled thread by thread and every page must begin with a single word The time to speak is now and once I've started I will not stop There will be no dam breaking, no angel choir, and no rush of divine inspiration It will begin as a trickle and trickle into a stream and stream into a river until it rushes into the ocean and creates currents of its own It will begin now with the first drop - not a tear but a bead of perspiration that will be lost and forgotten in the river (In other words, no pressure.)


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