Sometimes my mind is like a bag of white flour
Dusty, drab, messy, pulverized...
Nothing happens and it vacations in its cranium.. just waiting,
Waiting, for something to move and inspire it…
But at times it abruptly rekindles, becomes resuscitated and invigorated
And then it's insuppressible, ebullient and unconstrained.
So starts the steady stream of words on paper….
Pouring out totally unrestrained, producing work after work…..
Hieroglyphics scrawled across the page, with the hope the words
have a kinship with sense and understanding…
I have to keep churning whilst the kindling's still burning,
‘The moving finger writes' and knows no end my friend,
until exhausted the cranial pundit grinds to a halt
and reverts to its mill like process once again…ready to bake bread once more…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lodigiana great analogy so cleverly depicted and I truly love the last closing line. And yes it is easy to cheat and rewrite and shape anything original that's gone before, a tweak here a slight shift and change there. Then its Goundhog Day writing and kidding yourself. It's never easy dreaming up fresh originality. 10++ and keep writing Lodigiana even your writer's block experience is superb! Shaun. x.
Ah writers block is such a curse..Thank you for reminding me of this one..Love your comments as always my Friend xx