Writer’s Block


Writer’s Block

Snowy endless field
Blank of mind
Hunting through forests of
Printed word brings no aid
Web-like map traps instead of frees
Hourglass running out
Clock ticks steadily on to doom.

© Bridget Noonan, 2011.

Man, this weekend was friggin’ nuts. Cambridge with Steve was excellent though. I hadn’t seen him in way too long. And I mean, fireworks adventure last night kicked ass. But work this weekend? The only word I have for that is an inarticulate scream of anguish, which really is less of a word and more of a sound.

But yeah. Due to being quite literally so tired and in pain after work that I become stupid, I haven’t been writing. Not writing makes me feel all twitchy, but forcing it wasn’t happening either. It’s no excuse, but it’s all I have.

Gonna bust my metaphorical balls and maybe get the Three Word Wednesday done before Mike and Randi show up.

I also recommend that, if you are Canadian, or living in a place that celebrates Victoria Day, you listen to some Tragically Hip. It is the Canadian cottage party band of choice, and one of my favourites. Hell, even if you are neither Canadian nor have today off, the Hip are amazing.

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2 Comments

Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “Writer’s Block

  1. earlybird

    I think you sum this feeling up really well, Bee. I particularly like
    ‘Snowy endless field
    Blank of mind’

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