Outside, Inside

This is exactly how I feel about my writing. I agree, a blank sheet of paper looks very scary at first, and if no words come to mind, I just scribble random words or lyrics that are in my head. Very inspiring, and I like how you described your feelings - simple, but all of us can relate to it.
No edit nitpicks, people have done that already:D
All I have to say is - great,
and keep writing:)
xx polly

So, since everyone else has already said everything and edited and stuff for this nice poem I'll just... Um.

Anyways, I really liked this. I think you had pretty good imagery and your emotion was spot on for the subject that (I think) you're writing about. Also, I really liked your word structure. Although (on my second time reading through it) I realized that some parts of the poem aren't very poetic sounding I liked them because they added character and texture to the poem.

The only thing I would change is the ending. The last two lines are placed so weirdly. Because you have one word for the second to last line and then four words on the last line. It's really kind of disconcerting and unbalanced so you might want to try and change it.

Good job with this poem! I liked it

Keep writing,
Just

Hey Idraax! Here to review as requested; sorry for the wait.

Overall, I personally didn't like the poem. This doesn't mean your a bad poet, I just think it needed something else. I mean, I couldn't get much meaning from it and I felt there were some unnessecary pauses which ruined the flow of it. What I did like about it though was there smaller, obvious idea of it, but even that, I failed to understand it. I'm going to go into more detail now.

I'm going to start with verse one:

You sit outside,
with a clipboard in your arms.
resting atop your knees. -I've underlined this bit, because it doesn't seem very poetic. And I think you need to choose whether in this poem you'd like to talk about the set up of writing or the actual feeling behind writing. Because I think it's more about the equipment used and such, and you could've used some more interesting words.
You are staring at a blank page of paper-
there is nothing more terrifying,
with a pen in your fingers. -Pen in fingers? Pen in hand.
At the moment,
there are no ideas in your head.
Yet,
you uncap the pen,
and write,
anyway.- This is one of the points I mentioned above that there were some points were it paused and stopped the flow. I think it would look better as 'and write anyway' all on one line.

You sit,
in dimmed sunlight,
whispering words to yourself.
Gentle warmth,
a contrast to
the chill of outdoors.
There is another blank page in front of you.
This time,
the words fill your head.
You uncap the pen
and put them down,
onto that
that, terrifyingly, blank sheet.- no need for the comma after 'terrifyingly'

You are staring at a blank page of paper-

You sit outside,
with a clipboard in your arms
resting atop your knees.
You are staring at a blank page of paper-
there is nothing more terrifying I think you should switch these two lines (the one under) to help the flow.
with a pen in your fingers.
At the moment,
there are no ideas in your head.
Yet
you uncap the pen,
and write, anyway.
You sit,
in dimmed sunlight,
whispering words to yourself.
Gentle warmth,
a contrast tothe chill of outdoors.
There is another blank page in front of you.
This time,the words fill your head.
You uncap the pen,
and put them down onto
that terrifyingly, blank sheet.

Hey idraax! This poem reminds me a lot of how I write a lot of the time. I find that my inspiration changes drastically when I write outside from when I write inside. But anyway, this is about your poem.
I love that you described the blank sheet of paper as being terrifying. It suited the piece well. For me, the poem as a whole captured what it means to really be a writer - not just writing when you have ideas, but writing regardless of what's going on in your head. It seemed a little disjointed, but it worked. Not many poems can pull that off. This is probably because I view the writing process as something that is disjointed at times. Great work, and I hope to read more from you soon!
Alz

You sit outside,
with a clipboard in your arms,
resting atop your knees.
You are staring at a blank page of paper-
there is nothing more terrifying-
with a pen in your fingers.
At the moment,
there are no ideas in your head.
Yet,
you uncap the pen,
and write,
anyway.


You sit,
in dimmed sunlight,
whispering words to yourself.
Gentle warmth,
a contrast to
the chill of outdoors.
There is another blank page in front of you.
This time,
the words fill your head.
You uncap the pen
and put them down,
onto
that, terrifyingly, blank sheet.