|
and here i am, telling my muse to...
by Rachelle Howemy desk is like some spiraling enemy.
i hear my chair mocking me behind my back.
i want to scream, to curse the wood for
being my arch nemesis.
i want to swear the alphabet
up and down and to rip the pages from the books
i have yet to write.
yet write i do.
it's the only defense i have
against the delirium. 09/18/2003 Author's Note: *blinkblink.* i had an author's note here. *peers under the desk.* it was something brilliant. about writer's block, and such, but for the life of me... *grins a bit, chuckle.*
Posted on 09/18/2003
Copyright © 2025 Rachelle Howe
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ginette T Belle on 09/19/03 at 03:02 PM love the angst...love the title...love everything about this... |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 09/19/03 at 03:18 PM Yes, its a defence mechanism , a quick trick to believe that we are alive and incidentally we act ( reacting to the external)as buffers. Well said. |
| Posted by Christopher Shin on 09/19/03 at 04:18 PM Great poem. My muse haunts me each day I guess that is why I'm a gemini and I have so many stories to write. Damn Delirium |
| Posted by Lacy D Phillips on 09/20/03 at 06:04 AM damn straight! |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 09/22/03 at 06:26 PM Poor Muse! Unless the muse likes the abuse --in a caboose with a moose and a goose. Does this sound too Dr. Suess? Sorry, just being obtuse. |
|
