Blank Paper (aka Writers Block)

Blank Paper (aka Writers Block)

down in the dark where
ideas lurk like twisting steamy vapours
amidst cold trees;
there you will find me
sitting alone and
wondering
at a blank piece of paper.

blank except for the words
I mean to write;
empty except for the torrent
of good ideas that
slip past me like mist
leaving me waiting;
white except for the ink
I mean to spill
clean except for the dirt
of my endeavours that
crashed against
the cliffs
of disillusionment and
despair.

down in the dark where
ideas dwell like monsters in dank caves
scaring children;
there you will find me
lying awake and
staring
at a blank piece of paper.

I kinda wrote this on a whim, hoping to get the muse working, but when I was finished I found it made me laugh, so I figured what the hey, I'll post it. Have fun

I liked it. It sounds like me when i'm bored and just thinking about what to write. I've written stuff in my room trying to get an inspiration and what i end up getting something about a blank piece of paper. It made me laugh too. Good job on it.

Ooo! I like it! Writer's block, please go away!

Yeh, it was good. I found "cliffs of of disillusionment and despair" a little..I don't know...melodramatic for the topic but I guess the whole poem was. The last few lines of the poem weren't my favourite either, it seemed rather redundant. Some of the lines were great though - "the torrent of good ideas that slip past me like mist".

I liked the cadence you established with the first stanza

"down in the dark where
ideas lurk like twisting steamy vapours
amidst cold trees;
there you will find me"

I'd like to see a similarly strong rhythm in the rest.

Boy, have I been there. Good job

I wrote a song along these lines but what you've created here is of course a lot better than anything I could ever do.

Wowie Zowie!!! I loved it!!!!! thats awesome. writers block sucks....

It describes Writer's Block so well, I couldn't help but to like it...

blank except for the words
I mean to write;
empty except for the torrent
of good ideas that
slip past me like mist
leaving me waiting;
white except for the ink
I mean to spill
clean except for the dirt
of my endeavours that
crashed against
the cliffs
of disillusionment and
despair.

Loved that stanza
Nice job