I sit at my desk with the task
of searching thru everything
and not finding anything
to be rather frustrating.
Oh, let me explain.
To claim myself a writer
nothing would be nicer
then to have myself typing.
Yet, with no subject present
I'm a fully stuffed pheasant,
well-done and presented
as a tasty meal - uncooked.
This is frustratingly sad,
which makes me mad,
not finding any doodads
as a hen on an unfertilized egg.
Somewhere out there,
knowing not where
is ink to be splattered
on a blank sheet of paper.
I feel like Pooh-Bear
beating on bear hair
yearning to get a share
of sweet-tasting honey.
So hereon, I'll try to be funny
hoping to make a little money
making me all the more sunny
instead of brooding unfulfilled
on a most depressing day.
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a poem about writers block- an occasion, the feeling, or maybe an experienced breakthrough! Poems can be serious or humorous. Whatever your pens desire. |
Author Notes
The collage is my own photographs and indicates a willingness to write, but even after burning the midnight oil the results are ... nothing to see.
Addendum: My wife and another writer suggested then in verse two should be than, but word correct on FS and Grammarly, which is my proofreader, indicate differently, so it remains then.
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