Stop.
Focus.
The skritter-scratch of pen on paper.
Nothing exists but the page, the line,
The sentence, the -
Punctuation -
The word,
The
Syl-
La-
Ble,
The letters.
Let them flow from the mind
D
O
W
N
Through the arm to the wrist,
The deft movement of muscle and tendon,
The delicate bird-bones in my palm.
My fingertips hardly move at all.
When all else fails
Writing is my succor,
My pleasure,
And the lined pages of my notebooks
Are my dearest friends
Who listen to my
Every worry
And joy.
I Wish I Had Writer's Block Like THIS!
I had no idea where you were going to take me and I waited patiently until the wonderful ending - you took the time with this one. Poetry, less the needs of lyrics. Fine free write - enjoyed oodles - Lady A
writer's block
I usually just start writing about being unable to write. It usually works out the kinks in my brain until something comes out. I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Sometimes
those spontaneous writes are the best ones. A