My mind is empty
Devoid of words
I have nothing to say
To be read or heard
I should feel content
As there are no woes on my mind
Having nothing to express
Means everything's fine
But I must confess
I miss that voice in my head
That sense of self expression
That allows me to say
what's meant to be said
It just means I have to wait
Until the words call out my name
And then I can write
More poetry once again
It's like inspiration takes a break
Just for a while
Maybe goes on holiday
with its wife and child
Then comes back home renewed and refreshed
Ready to create a string of verse
But until that return
I feel lost and alone
So I wait with pen in hand
Silently at home
- Author: Saxon Crow ( Offline)
- Published: June 14th, 2022 02:21
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Comments7
Agghh, yes, the brain cells gone on holiday. All 3 of mine have gone.
When will yours be back? lol.
It’s difficult when we feel we cannot write , or are lost and don’t even know what to write about . Sometimes a picture can inspire me to write ,
I look around me wandering if there’s anything around me I can write about .
I’m sure youl feel able to write soon .. hope so )
'It's like inspiration takes a break'
or
'It's like inspiration allows, us
a break'..
so relatable, dear Poet
thank you! (phew
so it's not just me then...)
lol
Excellent Saxon. I'd never have though of writing about how barren i feel when my inspiration has drifted from me.
You have inspired me here though. And right now i have thoughts of penning my loss though I have to admit inspiration rose again in me this morning.
I find an amazing lift of spirit once i have been seduced by inspiration and produced a piece - I'm sure it must be similar for you and all us poets.
Great work, I'm going to indulge in a re-read now.
Thanks Dusk. Today was a desperate attempt to write something because ive been quiet for a few days. Yes, like you I gain a sense of joy once a piece is kind enough to surface from my foggy mind.
.....And fulfillment - great stuff, Sax.
Well it certainly came back today for you - and struck a chord in your readers. I love the half rhymes and gentle metr.e
Those times when Calliope goes on holiday do happen but she will return with more wondrous words for you SC.
Andy
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.