drought

the bitch
of my pen
is anticipation
dangling

ink will
not flow
when i can
only talk
with my legs,
in a consensual
and malignant
dialect of drought

cries fall
through the gates
of holy words
avulsed from
my throat,
specimens upon
barren parchment

where is
forgiveness?

Author notes

i have the block, but as it was pointed out to me today, why write about not being able to write...

1 - 6 of 6

By me, right now

Adding your comment:
Oisin
October 8, 2007

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Who is forgiveness for? Do words not found on paper deny the writer or the reader? I am not sure the parchment will ever produce the lines alone. Once again I see the association between yourself and your spiritual side, it is a tight connection.

"where is
forgiveness?"

In the heart.
Swan song
October 7, 2007
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Honest and right in your face. I like this it is really good.
S A Adelmann
October 3, 2007

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I never questioned writing about not writing - only said that I had done it enough (too much). When nothing else comes to me, it is what I write - and I always hope it leads to more words...
tomisb
October 2, 2007

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Everyday starts with the stone in my hands, hammering away at the words that won't blend. Keenly stated and brightly felt. I can only nod and say that writing with my own blood doesn't help.
Love, Tom B.
Peteskid
October 1, 2007

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i like this and i would enjoy it even more if i weren't feeling some of these very symptoms... oh man... so very well done here,very skillful, expressive free verse...PK
S A Adelmann
October 1, 2007
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