Writers’ Block circa 2009

For my first blog post, I’m sharing the poem that I wrote back in 2009 when I just wanted to write again, but didn’t know what to write about.  My writer’s block actually became a place of inspiration for my poem… check it out below!

There was a period of time in my early twenties (before I wrote writer’s block) when poetry and prose flowed out of me like a river and I honestly don’t even know that girl anymore.  Once I started teaching, my life and mind got very busy and my days sitting in coffee shops or  parks writing in my journal quickly faded away.  Time at Starbucks turned into grading or lesson planning time and my free time usually gets spent with others, because it’s so rare, that I feel I need to see people during that time… not sit alone writing!  However, I miss that creative, self-reflection time and think it really is good for me, which is why I decided to take on this year’s “Slice of Life” writing challenge for the month of March.  From time to time, I’ll look back at my old journals full of creative expression and wisdom and I’m amazed with my younger self.  She seemed to be more idealistic and clear headed than I feel I’ve somehow become now, years later.  That seems backwards, but it’s the truth!  I’m hoping that committing to writing every day for the month of March 2015 will stir up some of my creative habits and optimistic thinking that used to be such natural practices of my daily life.

Welcome to writers block

Find me at the crossroads

Looking for the right codes

Lusting for inspiration

On writer’s block

This is where we stay

Past Revolution Way

Populated by those who feel, not who fear

Closed minds and hearts aren’t wanted here

Share me your thoughts

Show me your soul on rhymes

Close your eyes and follow the sound of hearts beat-boxing

Through spitty fists and tickling lips

Boom bat bat Boom bat

There you’ll find minds of all kinds

Where they’re free to create

Relate

Translate

On writers block, you may have to wait

Breathe easy and inhale the first hand waves of words

Flock to the talent like poetry birds

You’ll see the mailman with special deliveries

Of metaphorical soliloquies

Artists tag their statements

Spray can brick wall placements

Photographers like snap dragons

Capture the fly in action

Their realness is the secret of their attraction

On writers block you’ll experience satisfaction

When suddenly turn on the street lights

And the soul flower writes

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