Wednesday, July 22, 2015

A Poem of Frustration


Each time I fix to write,
my fingers freeze up
and wither.
My mind is so pissed off
it scream,
“Come ON, Dumb-Ass!
spoon fed words
in dreams with popsicle promises,
and you can’t compose
fountain blue on white?
What good are you?”
My mind's lame bitch slap;
She needs to toughen up
'Cause the fighting is
exhausting.

7 comments:

  1. I felt every single word of this.

    I love you and you're words.

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    1. Thanks, Doll! I figured you would.

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  2. Blogging is the new poetry. I find it wonderful and amazing in many ways.

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  3. Slacker, oh slacker, wherefore art thou, oh slacker.
    Stop overthinking and start writing.

    "I was sitting by the lake reading the 23rd book of the summer when I finally accepted the Cubs will never win a World Series and the Bears will never win another Superbowl....

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    1. Ha Ha! Who made you Jimmy Fallon???

      The Cubs are on a 10-1 winning streak. Won't last but exciting nonetheless. Reports in on the Bears this season. Predicted to be the worst team in the league. Again. Thanks management for hanging onto a loser. I haven't read that much. Quality over quantity. May start up soon. Dealing with some tricky issues.

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    2. Hope the tricks have turned into treats and that they lead to the write stuff.

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    3. It's not Halloween yet! The words are there; the time is not! Out of town for a bit, but setting next week as a potential start date!!! Miss it. In other news, my reading is thriving...

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