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Brumous Jun 2023
Half full yet...
I keep

Everything creeps up,
and I empty myself.

I empty... myself?
They empty me.

Thoughts past zero degrees,
ice-cold breaths give me a mouthful of red.

empty cup, empty head,
an efficient way
to keep myself there.
Everything is getting too much; I have no place to shelter myself from this noise.
Warrior Poet Nov 2022
Sitting at the empty desk
Hand upon the fountain pen
Grasping it tightly at its neck
Unsure if it shall ever write again

The minds process is blank
For emotion had not found thought
Because the heart already sank
Leaving the writer with much distraught

When thought is without emotion
And has found no words for the page
It comes to the terrible notion
That it has suffered an awful change

When writer begins to suffer
From this ruthless unkind curse
Writing becomes so much tougher
And the page is still left without verse
Strangerous Sep 2022
Every morning at six-thirty I sit
at that table by the window and drink
my coffee. No, I’m retired. As you see,
I can see that corner, and most days the kids
come there to wait for the bus to take them to
the high school. Two boys and a girl, usually.
No, I don’t know them or their names, but I’d
recognize them. So, they stand there talking
and smoking -- whether cigarettes or something
else, I don’t know, but sometimes they shared it.
And I’m thinking the boys shared the girl too,
because one day one’s kissing her, the next day
he doesn’t show and she’s kissing the other.
That was yesterday. Then, today, the first boy
walks up and bang! bang! -- he shoots them both,
the girl and the boy, point blank in the head, like
Pacino in Scarface. Yes, I’ll testify.
But please catch the little ******* before
he finds out I’m a witness and pops me too.
© 1998 by Jack Morris
Ronney Mar 2022
the Words do not thrive
Spoken with derision  
its the lack of ambition
no will, no way, no drive

Hope to inspire. I try.
All ideas have shriveled up, fallen away and died.
Washed up, gone away with the tide.
Wasting away, waiting here, biding my time.
Pray the words come back, A treasure I seek to find.
Been craving for the words to come to me.
Every thought and idea has been so elusive
Aindri Jan 2022
I'm just sitting,
Hoping for a day,
I don't have to face,
A blank page.
Any tips for inspiration?
little glowing flakes
blissful and divine
snow glistens into my bright blue eyes
the beauty of simplicity
of a simple blank white canvas
means winter is upon us
jessica obrien Oct 2021
i am parting my lips with a

out comes
juiced page
lua Sep 2021
i zone out
when i find myself
falling in a rabbit hole
mid-comment scroll
to think of nothing
and everything
to think of where i am
where im headed
and where ill stop
to think of who i was
who i am
who im being
and who ill become
to think of why i do the things i do
what my purpose is
what it is to be in love with myself
like how all the other girls seem to be.
dilshé Aug 2021
This foggy mind,
where the mist won't cease
Opaque clouds drift
to my thoughts - the breeze
intentions unclear,
abandoned with slight fear
passions muted -
purpose is queer.
White page lies blank
Black ink is drained
the brain's an asylum
neither insane nor sane
Is this the Kingdom of Boredom?
for all empty souls & crumpled blanks
Please reach thy vibrant hands into the dump
with the glimmers of galaxies in your eyes
& drag me out of this living slump.
In a phase of feeling blank
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