I’ve never known what I take we understand is
writer’s block.
I can write well past eternity
unless unless
unless unless
Unless
I’m not grabbed by an idea or until I grab hold.
And I’m well past midnight-stiff, startled, appalled.
That I’ve grabbed hold and
shaped and crafted
and exulted
six hundred six thousand six hundred thousand times
before
one time one time one time
one time….
No matter.
Is this what writers fear?
It scares me shot through to a place of
persistent, low-grade, three-a.m. terror.
Because my commitment is to write every day,
write something meaningful to me,
I do lie in bed many nights (as this one)
with an anxiety dreadfully real and
dull-pounding.
Yet even as I know and as I say
“How absurd!”
(and I do say it, I do pronounce it)
I know that come sun (or morning fog)
I’ll have my idea.
Just now, I don’t.
And I’m shot-though terror.
Do not feel alone~You have PLENTY of good company Lieven!
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We all get that, Bro. My remedy is to just refuse to worry about it. Anyways, may the muse visit you every day.
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