Poems About Writers Block Seeking Friendly Advice
#WritersBlock
Shattered Visions
Oh the Innocence
That laugh, that wild howling in the throat of the child,
Unseen fingers scramble for the last thread of light
Here, the angels are naked,
no wings to catch their fall.
The river splits,
splashes,
and chaos is born
from the lips of the unholy, the pure.
There be our Divinity
slips beneath the skin like rust on gold—
a fractured god,
broken in pieces,
spilled across the morning,
the moon forgets its name.
Prophecies?
Laughing in the dust,
twisted and torn,
a...
That laugh, that wild howling in the throat of the child,
Unseen fingers scramble for the last thread of light
Here, the angels are naked,
no wings to catch their fall.
The river splits,
splashes,
and chaos is born
from the lips of the unholy, the pure.
There be our Divinity
slips beneath the skin like rust on gold—
a fractured god,
broken in pieces,
spilled across the morning,
the moon forgets its name.
Prophecies?
Laughing in the dust,
twisted and torn,
a...
#LifeAsAWriter
#LifeStruggles
#SelfReflection
#WritersBlock
#WritingPoetry
48 reads
0 Comments
Poetry
I’ve been wandering some time
Far from the words I’ve so often
Skimmed
And rarely truly delved in
My mind has been away
Out in Vietnamese rice paddies
On a grey and cloudy day
The smell of water and earth
Underfoot
And tangled up in
The greenery of flower
And tree
See,
My soul’s been dancing round
The Korean capital nightlife
Mesmerized by neon Hangul
And street hawkers,
Wondering at words
I barely comprehend
Even my own kitchen
Now lacks the dreamy smell
Of...
Far from the words I’ve so often
Skimmed
And rarely truly delved in
My mind has been away
Out in Vietnamese rice paddies
On a grey and cloudy day
The smell of water and earth
Underfoot
And tangled up in
The greenery of flower
And tree
See,
My soul’s been dancing round
The Korean capital nightlife
Mesmerized by neon Hangul
And street hawkers,
Wondering at words
I barely comprehend
Even my own kitchen
Now lacks the dreamy smell
Of...
#dreams
#hope
#WritersBlock #WritingPoetry
#WritersBlock #WritingPoetry
64 reads
1 Comment
Not Sure.
I want to write poems, lines & things.
Through not sure what is right to write.
I've written things not yet published.
That may sound bitter to another
Not my intention to offend & blame.
But rather myself to be as I am.
My thuth to my self to be,
As i'm perceiving it to be.
I'm going through a thing at moment.
Thoughts are clouding my mind.
Confusing me further.
Sure there's a light at the end of the tunnel.
Hope it not a train
Coming from the other end.
...
Through not sure what is right to write.
I've written things not yet published.
That may sound bitter to another
Not my intention to offend & blame.
But rather myself to be as I am.
My thuth to my self to be,
As i'm perceiving it to be.
I'm going through a thing at moment.
Thoughts are clouding my mind.
Confusing me further.
Sure there's a light at the end of the tunnel.
Hope it not a train
Coming from the other end.
...
#LifeAsAWriter
#MyInspiration
#PowerOfWords
#WritersBlock
#WritingPoetry
71 reads
2 Comments
on reflection
never wanting to be anything other than
ordinarily I’d agree
but just occasionally I’d think
and then think again about something else ..
ordinarily I’d agree
but just occasionally I’d think
and then think again about something else ..
#WritersBlock
105 reads
5 Comments
Seaside
I’ve found myself lately
Walking along the washed
And rewashed shore,
Where early morning bandits
Slip in and steal up
Unbroken shells
For the crooks at souvenir shops
To resell to a quaint family
From the Illinois farmland
Breathing in
Tobacco smoke;
I know it’s not
What’s gonna get me.
Been running through
A thousand unspent conversations,
Trying to rewrite
All my wrongs,
Wishing we still had a chance
To gaze in to
One another’s
Weary eyes
As our paths thin,
Dwindling down ...
Walking along the washed
And rewashed shore,
Where early morning bandits
Slip in and steal up
Unbroken shells
For the crooks at souvenir shops
To resell to a quaint family
From the Illinois farmland
Breathing in
Tobacco smoke;
I know it’s not
What’s gonna get me.
Been running through
A thousand unspent conversations,
Trying to rewrite
All my wrongs,
Wishing we still had a chance
To gaze in to
One another’s
Weary eyes
As our paths thin,
Dwindling down ...
#depression
#FeelingLost
#WritersBlock #WritingPoetry
#WritersBlock #WritingPoetry
144 reads
0 Comments
I Wrote Too Much
I wrote too much
Déjà vu
I spilled these words before
pointed out the facts
just for them to be ignored
collabed a few times
some friends became enemies
and some friends
became friends with enemies
and they wonder why
I have trust issues
speaking of which
I spoke about this before
oh goo goo girl
where did you go?
that was so many years ago
not that the story didn’t repeat
over and over
different girl same drama
yeah too much wasted time
if I had half a mind
I would of given it up ...
Déjà vu
I spilled these words before
pointed out the facts
just for them to be ignored
collabed a few times
some friends became enemies
and some friends
became friends with enemies
and they wonder why
I have trust issues
speaking of which
I spoke about this before
oh goo goo girl
where did you go?
that was so many years ago
not that the story didn’t repeat
over and over
different girl same drama
yeah too much wasted time
if I had half a mind
I would of given it up ...
#WritersBlock
#WritingPoetry
157 reads
6 Comments
A writer's block
I have come to a point where I envy
a story teller
A short poem
I used to write
But my hands are dry
And I envy those who embrace the muse every day
And make love to her.
a story teller
A short poem
I used to write
But my hands are dry
And I envy those who embrace the muse every day
And make love to her.
#WritersBlock
95 reads
8 Comments
Coming Soon
The medication I must take to ease my mind's condition
assaults my creativity, and I'm out of commission
until the rhyming thoughts return I'll sit here most contrite
crumbling sheets of paper as I relearn how to write
assaults my creativity, and I'm out of commission
until the rhyming thoughts return I'll sit here most contrite
crumbling sheets of paper as I relearn how to write
#LifeStruggles
#WritersBlock
14 reads
7 Comments
a fable
A fable
I flew high, but it was hot, my wings were tired
when spotting a well sat on the rim of the well
saw my reflection; yes, I was beautiful, but
noticed a dark shadow behind me
pushing me into the well and looking up
Evil had gone
clawed myself to the top, the Evil sat by the fireside
my talons scratched its eyes out
Evil ran outside, cooling his dead eyes in falling
I'm a silky bird with golden feathers
The evil scream bore man's suffering
Wisdom lost there was a land that had golden sand
lemon trees and jubilant...
I flew high, but it was hot, my wings were tired
when spotting a well sat on the rim of the well
saw my reflection; yes, I was beautiful, but
noticed a dark shadow behind me
pushing me into the well and looking up
Evil had gone
clawed myself to the top, the Evil sat by the fireside
my talons scratched its eyes out
Evil ran outside, cooling his dead eyes in falling
I'm a silky bird with golden feathers
The evil scream bore man's suffering
Wisdom lost there was a land that had golden sand
lemon trees and jubilant...
#MyInspiration
#passion
#PowerOfWords
#reading
#WritersBlock
67 reads
0 Comments
A Langauge Of Emotion (Silent Plea)
words ~ please fail me not
they are truly ~ all i have
to express feelings
they are truly ~ all i have
to express feelings
#MyInspiration
#PowerOfWords
#senryu
#WritersBlock
#WritingPoetry
119 reads
3 Comments
His Only Regret
The poem unwritten
Still in his head
Words left silent
Thoughts left for dead
Not just his poem
His whole expression
Lost in the calm
of his innermost passion
Sitting in the dark
corners of his mind
is the home of his mark
he'll never leave behind
When the life if a poet
comes to an end
His only regret
The poem unwritten
Tim Eros
24051807
Still in his head
Words left silent
Thoughts left for dead
Not just his poem
His whole expression
Lost in the calm
of his innermost passion
Sitting in the dark
corners of his mind
is the home of his mark
he'll never leave behind
When the life if a poet
comes to an end
His only regret
The poem unwritten
Tim Eros
24051807
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritersBlock
#WritingPoetry
26 reads
7 Comments
Unwritten
The poem unwritten
are the kisses we missed
when fear
meets pen and paper
ink unspilled
tongue untwisted
as mind retracts in doubt
Overthinking
over-processing
brain strain exercise
Hands we couldn't hold
playing this game
of love-rhyme-romance
Prospecting
your thoughts and mine
which words...
are the kisses we missed
when fear
meets pen and paper
ink unspilled
tongue untwisted
as mind retracts in doubt
Overthinking
over-processing
brain strain exercise
Hands we couldn't hold
playing this game
of love-rhyme-romance
Prospecting
your thoughts and mine
which words...
#love
#romantic
#WritersBlock #WritingPoetry
#WritersBlock #WritingPoetry
309 reads
17 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Writers Block Seeking Friendly Advice