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Poet No More
by JJ JohnsonThere is a tremendous sadness within me that I am at a loss to express.
If I cannot put it into words, I am unworthy to claim the mantle of poet.
I think I will never pick up a pen again if the inspiration to burn this feeling into the memory of the tree that died for the sheet of emptiness that lies before me does not come to suck the deep blue blood from the dripping quill.
Why am I overwhelmed with an undefined weight I cannot lose,
not even if I were to starve myself until death stays my trembling hand?
What good does it do to care enough to carry that weight when the heart that cared so much is no more than an empty sack of cold blood,
waiting to be drained by the suckers who have no heart for my blood to beat through?
And if I cannot write the answer to this mystery into a poem, then surely I am not worthy to feel that which I have sought for eternity. 12/12/2007 Author's Note: This is not a poem, more of a ranting prose moment I wrote in my blog. A friend pointed out it's poetic qualities, so I decided I should post it. It's the only thing I have written recently that remotely resembles a poem. I have felt no inspiration to write any new ones and I don't much feel like continuing the masquerade.
Posted on 01/01/2008
Copyright © 2025 JJ Johnson
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 01/04/08 at 02:05 AM It will come back to you eventually. No one really knows why writer's block happens, but speaking personally, I get blocked when I am not in touch with my most authentic self, and I have to figure out where I'm fakin it. Once I get that figured out, I usually get freed up to write again! But that's just me. Don't give up!!! You'll feel the flow again... |
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