Tiny Terror

Writer's block

Writer’s block (Photo credit: Incessant Flux)

The skittering chill up my spine
doesn’t come from hoodoos, bogeymen,
bugbears or the night bumpers anymore.
I enjoy the company of darkness
in my bed at night, and I walk
these cracked sidewalks,
head held high, as daily I pass by
their cracked denizens.
Expressing myself to others,
tens or thousands, no longer shakes me.
I’ve stared down disease, criminal intent,
the uncertainty of parenthood
and the whoosh-by of swift death.
But not much scares me so these days
as sitting with a frozen mind
in front of a snowy-white page.

 

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7 thoughts on “Tiny Terror

  1. No kidding. Spill some coffee on the white page, make it less perfect unless the white page is your computer, then um… don't spill coffee on it. A less than perfect computer is expensive. *hug*

  2. I think that terror hits all of us poets & writers from time to time…although the 'whoosh-by of swift death' might do it for me, too.. *wry smile* ..there doesn't seem much wrong with your muse these days, Joe *hugs* 🙂

  3. Well expressed, Joe! You don't seem blank at all : )For a while now, I have been quite frozen; and with accompaning anxiety (that part is new…lol)…the other day, I just started writing things on a grocery list, which helped!Wishing you a never-ending flow of words for 2012. Thank you for all your support and work with dVerse! -Eva

  4. Every writer's not to 'tiny' terror is to feel a blockade to the usual free flowing thinking and subsequent creation of worded pictures. You expressed the emotion very well. I loved this poem. 🙂

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