Sean McCoy

Rookie (April 17)

The Creative Process - Poem by Sean McCoy

Sometimes I stare at the blank page
pen dangling lifelessly over it.
The paper has the pall of a corpse.
Frustration and misery surrounds me.

Othertimes I merely touch
pen to paper
and it becomes a photographic plate
capturing a perfect image
of my soul, my emotioin, my innerself,
it's like magic.
The pen moves of it's own volition,
every transient thought floating
through my mind
instantly transforms to prose.
After I've been drained dry,
the pen stops moving.
I have a new creation in front of me.
A beaming, proud father
admiring his new born child.

Comments about The Creative Process by Sean McCoy

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, May 12, 2010

[Report Error]