Hunting for Creativity

Today I wanted to be creative.

I wanted the words to flow

Four am wake ups from rogue ideas

And conceded scribbles to bribe back sleep.

 

I needed the clatter of keyboards

Rattling my mind for the last drops

Waiting for the final thunk of gold

The smudges of ink that pulled a chapter whole.

 

Instead I got the crumpled paper

Of half hearted attempts to write.

Jottings, notes and contradicting plots

Which spin webs of confusion in my mind.

 

Works that once seemed good

Fractured beneath my own acid gaze.

 

I’m supposed to be a writer

Why can I not pin you down?

Where’s my sledge hammer for this block?

How do you bury my words so far beneath ground?

5 Comments

  1. You’re very talented…don’t rush your muse, it will come . Your flow will be wrecked often, but keep-a-going! btw, thanks for liking my post at clara54>

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