Jammed

 

Words backed up 

like a log jam 

before spring thaw.

“When words don’t come easy, I make do 

with silence and find something in nothing.”

~ Strider Marcus Jones, poet

The Quest

I’m not getting anywhere 

   on this quest to 

find the words. 

Words that sing, 

  that have meaning, 

    that wake me up. 

They lie dormant 

in their little beds 

only wanting to rest.

So I will acquiesce and let them be 

~ after I have finished this poem 

and said good night.

“Of your unspoken words you are the master; 

of your spoken word the servant; 

and of your written word the slave.”

~ Quaker proverb

Hints

 

Another blank page

Words beg for release

Mere hints of poetry    

“There are no blank words. Just blank pages.”

                ~ Hadinet Tekie, poet and artist                            

Just One Word

One thing 

that’s all I want 

one thing 

one word 

one idea 

to get me started 

so the flow slips through 

the nerves and sinews of my arms 

from the few of pounds of my brain. 

The organ that is not a muscle 

but an idea, emotion, movement central. 

Programmed from birth with 

DNA and RNA and sparks of life 

so that we can move through our lives

 ~ in a very literal sense.

“The best tip for writing is just to write; to sit down and write, 

to begin doing it and not to be scared by the blank page.”

~ David Almond, author

Gone Fishin'

 

To try and catch all the words that scatter themselves through my head is next to impossible. They float and bump up against one another, flip their wordy tails as they swim by, diving into the waving algae to hide from me. So I will just let them play their games for tonight. In the morning they may want to show off by lining up in a poem or story. But they may stay hiding in the 

little castle nestled in the algae.

“I have hated words and I have loved them, 

and I hope I have made them right.”

~ Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

A Little Nonsense

 

Pulling words from thin air, 

air so thin 

they barely materialize 

into the light of this screen, 

and when they do 

they make little sense. 

Merely black marks, 

easily deleted 

as though never there, although 

once out there they will hover 

and who will read all these hovering words 

and thoughts and ideas and 

do they have a life span 

of a year or maybe a millennia

in this clouded world of I.T.?

“You are hurrying to the sweet place, 

To the nonsense chasing your spirit 

And in the nonsense you look for answers.”

~ Dejan Stojanovic,  Circling: 1978 - 1987

To Write a Poem

To write poem 

when the words 

are off in space 

is impossible. 

I can only imagine 

them as stars in the 

sky hidden by the 

clouds of the night. 

“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.”

~ Jack Kerouac,  The Dharma Bums

While the Music Plays

Here I sit, head resting in my hand, 

hoping that the beautiful waltz 

playing will snatch a brilliant idea 

from mid air ~ 

that space between the notes ~ 

and grace me with words that 

flow as beautifully. 

But then I’m not an orchestra, 

and can’t imagine being 

the conductor! 

So I’ll just tap these few words 

while the music changes 

from a symphony of waltzes 

to Feelin’ Groovy.

“Music is forever; music should grow and mature with you, 

following you right on up until you die.”

~ Paul Simon

Reason Enough

Where’s a switch to flip so words 

do flow, or maybe there’s a tap? 

Words usually do more than 

scribble here and scribble there.

Rather than search thesaurus or 

dictionary for inspiration,

I’ll just close today’s chapter 

and say Good Night.

“Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, 

that I shall say good night till it be morrow”

~ William Shakespeare

Random Thoughts

Once more the page is 

blank, random thoughts 

drift, falling uselessly 

into the dark. Biding 

their time, perhaps 

never to return or 

maybe to blossom. 

One never knows 

about random thoughts.

“Life is about not knowing, having to change,

 taking a moment and making the best of it.”

~ Gilda Radner

Hidden

Words locked in

Can’t find the key

In a safe place is

Where it will be!

“Every day, writing. No matter how bad. Something will come.”

~ Sylvia Plath

Searching for Words

Thoughts march behind my eyes like little wooden soldiers waiting to be given their marching orders. When the Muse does not speak up, 

they keep marching into the gray oblivion of my tired brain disappearing one by one until all that can be heard is the echo of little wooden feet.

“I like good strong words that mean something.”

~ Louisa May Alcott (from Little Women)

Becalmed

blank

muddled

body like a noodle

words asleep

writing has timing except 

when it doesn’t 

early morning

mid afternoon

evening 

yet

words still sleep

Therapeutic massage needs the therapy of rest and sleep

“I have this feeling - of being unplugged and too far 

from the socket and what remains is a red warning bar.”

~ Sarah Hall, Burnout