pen poised
pressed to the page
empty
words lost to obscurity
disappear into the tempest
swirling
sounds and forms
tired and trite
repeating
scratched vinyl
marred unplayable
monet under a microscope
intricate fractal beauty
shattered
burning diary
locked lexicon
paralyzed
my broken heart is beating
and I can’t find my words
Author notes
author ParadoxFry
A contest entry
- Shooting Stars and Eyelashes by bird-mad girl.
1000 points, ended September 10, 2007, 18 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I can relate to this piece A LOT write now. I've got a lot of emotion that I want to release in the form of poetry, but the words just aren't taking shape right now. It's really frustrating. Poetry is like breathing and when those won't come out it's like you've been holding your breath for too long and you're starting to black out.
I really loved the word choice in this piece. It doesn't sound like you've lost your muse
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Surely we have all been there.
(I know. You don't want me to call you Shirley.) The muse comes and goes as she will.
She uses us to showcase her talent at her convenience. On some level, she loves us so she WILL return. 
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