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How many poems have I writ? And how easy has the process been? To think and to conjure from my brain Unto the printed page, Ideas and concepts flowing in a seamless joyous Tide of vocabulary and Profusion Until a while ago. When everything. Just. Stopped. So what is it? What is this ******* thing That circumvents my joy And my creativity? Where is it skulking? Coward! Come forth, Be fought! But it would not Did not And I did not write, My pen was silent But not my creativity, Until I met some strangers Who became immediate Fast friends and true, I opened up And ideas flew, Turns out The block was that no one actually Asked me to write, No one and especially not me! Well these new friends did, And the blockage, In that instant, Died And went And so this verse, Poor though it be, And first in quite a while, Has indeed Snuck out Under The wire
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Oct 27, 2021
Oct 27, 2021 at 5:07 AM UTC
Under the Wire
How many poems have I writ? And how easy has the process been? To think and to conjure from my brain Unto the printed page, Ideas and concepts flowing in a seamless joyous Tide of vocabulary and Profusion Until a while ago. When everything. Just. Stopped. So what is it? What is this ******* thing That circumvents my joy And my creativity? Where is it skulking? Coward! Come forth, Be fought! But it would not Did not And I did not write, My pen was silent But not my creativity, Until I met some strangers Who became immediate Fast friends and true, I opened up And ideas flew, Turns out The block was that no one actually Asked me to write, No one and especially not me! Well these new friends did, And the blockage, In that instant, Died And went And so this verse, Poor though it be, And first in quite a while, Has indeed Snuck out Under The wire
While on a ILM7 coaching course I re-found my voice. Thank you Bill
jamesb
Written by
58/M/London
Oct 27, 2021
Oct 27, 2021 at 5:07 AM UTC
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