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Oct 11, 2013
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Writer's block!
we all at sometime or the other
experience a writer’s block ….we feel so much inferior…to our selves then ….as one reads another …we feel their vibrations
and in tune commence to vibrate ….our mind once again commences to oscillate ….rotate …as heart palpitates ….
then we like dogs let loose our tongues …. some turmoil …some emotion has well begun …
the writer’s block does erase …
how it does one amaze
out pours glow …like the rivers flow
words come out as you know …from nowhere…
that's how I could compose ten poetries a day ….till Neopoets took my inner inbuilt natural capacity away ….
how I wish we could say …what we wanted
in more than a single way …alas with no power to say
Neopoets don't now read anyway
so writers block does very well stay
I wish you all pray and reinstate the stream …as limitless...
if only one can have some say….
Today!
About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Ian.T
11 years 9 months ago
Loved
I is so small I can't think at all.
To write it would be away with the fairies
What to say I don't even have diaries
So to remember just who I am
I look in my wallet for a name
Now that is fine
If I knew where it was last time.
My wife whoever she is,
Switches this comp on in the morning time
It reminds me of some friends of mine
If I could only remember their names.
What they do, do they play games
Ah! a spark of something on the screen
Damn it, it has just turned Green
Ian.T
11 years 9 months ago
PS
Dear PS,
some things will come to me,
must go now will be back at three
Whoever I be La La
non sequitur
11 years 9 months ago
Dearly be- loved!
how you inspire us all, to encourage synaptic connections to lead in all directions... Back to the font of all creativity!
Thanks
NS
loved
11 years 9 months ago
wow such a great mind
and you are so kind
weirdelf
11 years 9 months ago
I think writer's block would do you a world of good, Loved
profligacy has always been the downfall of your poetry. Real poetry is compression of meaning, careful thought and choice of words, the ruthless elimination of the inessential.
Even in this poem you babble. And you blame Neopoets for not reading! How dare you? When I read so much of your banal babble to find the few gems.
loved
11 years 9 months ago
yeah
I guess ur right
more babble tis