A Poem That Sleeps
Waiting so patiently
Within the confines of my heart
Adrift in emotional limbo
Sits a poem that needs a start
Words temporarily misplaced
Subject matter of none
My mind is blank
No thoughts, not even one
Emptiness, zip, zero
Zilch, nada, nil
A dictionary packed cover to cover
And such a void to fill
Hands on the clock
Seemingly in slow motion
My lyrical wheels refusing to turn
Must push to start a commotion
Make a noise somehow
To stir the slumber it keeps
For a blank page awaits
A poem that sleeps
Copyright © Accidental Poet 2011
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Author:
Sharon\'s Poet (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 12th, 2017 08:28
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 53
- Users favorite of this poem: Drewp, WL Schuett
Offline)
Comments12
Often the situation but always it finds it's way onto the page somehow or other - it'll come.
Michael, as wine ages until its time to uncork, a poem must gather and compose itself accordingly. Thank you for reading my friend. Let no bottle of prose pour before it's time.
Beautiful irony. I love this. Excellent write
Thank you for reading and your compliment Drewp.
Nicely done... Being there... By the way, Happy Birthday!
Thanks Roberto. And my birthday isn't until next month. So hold that thought and I'll catch up to it then. ; )
Oh I get why you said that our posts were similiar! Mine about writers block and yours about a "poem that sleeps". Well, yours was much better, in my humble opinion, but I think written about similiar topic. Great job on this!!
You may think you have writer's block, but the poem IS there. Think of it as a stew that simmers until it's ready to serve. Thanks for reading Christina.
Erm, yes, Happy Birthday. I never know today was Dec 11th though? Eh?! Now that page is not staring back at you all blank! Oh lol, it got it wrong for another poet's birthday before as well.
Thanks for reading orchi. Yes, I've seen where that's happened before, very confusing. Don't want to rush my years any faster than they already go. 61 is dead ahead and closing in fast.
Oops yes. Cos in that case, if it's Dec, I've missed a friend's birthday (not on this site). Or rather, another friend as well as you. Will you swap? He will be 37. Oh so young!
I'm inclined to jump at the offer orchi, but in doing so I'd certainly lose much of what I've been given. Plus, don't think I could swoon as good as I did anymore. But you can swoon in my place if you'd like.
capturing that sleeping poem with imagination is a beautiful thing. your transition from mind to paper is a remarkable notice of what not to lose. brilliant rhyming, yet again with good fluent style. i love your work AP.
Thank you Kevin for such an uplifting compliment. As Robin Williams says in the video of "Dead Poets Society", poetry is a passion inside that I feel will find its way out no matter what. If you've not watched the movie, I urge you to do so. You will not be disappointed.
AP, I believe every poet on Earth has watched it. Williams is totally brilliant in this film. you're very welcome for for the uplift, we all deserve it.
Oh captain, my captain, thank you Robin Williams! ; )
Love the conception of poems that sleep - - tis true that words after a while form themselves and sometimes when we are least expecting it a subject gathers its sentencing from almost nowhere. - thanks A.P, for versing the frustration of waiting for clear and completed inspiration.
Fay, I've always felt that when trying to write, and nothing is coming to mind, it's best to walk away for a bit and try again later. Watch some TV or listen to the radio, anything to stimulate a point of origin for the poem to take shape from. I find some movies can get my lyrical wheels in motion too. Thank you for reading and your compliment.
A relatable write AP! Loved it 🙂
Thanks sky. Thanks for reading and complimenting.
That poem has obviously awoken with these words.
Yes, I realized that as I was posting it. Thanks Goldie.
May the poem have a good dream.
and not a nightmare, LOL. Thanks for reading m&m.
I do like this poem very much, AP! It happens that words just pop into the head without us knowing where they come from. But now we know...they were sleeping!
Yes Fred, just catching a little catnap. Thanks for reading Fred.
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