Would you
would you please
please remind me of the things,
the things that inspire me to
...write...
That gift is now but a distant tease.
Remind me
remind me of
what stirs
what stirs my soul
to dig & dive deep
deep in my heart & mind
and let thoughts churn,
churn before I
...write...
For alas the thoughts,
the thoughts & words
...words...
that once
once upon a time
would flood my mind,
they are now
now but a fleeting whisper,
a whisper that
that I can’t,
can’t seem to decipher
decipher or decode.
For my thoughtful gaze once
once upon a time flooded on the drop
drop of a dime.
I’ve forgot how to
how to decipher or decode those
those fleeting
fleeting thoughts into
into words & wishful wisdom
...words…
that I use to
use to construct with ease.
What happened to my ability to
...write..?
That gift, it’s like,
like a not so distant dream.
Those inspiring and
thought
provoking
...words...
have all but vanished.
Those vulnerable and honest
confessions
honest at times to a
fault
have escaped me.
Its absence is a silent & ghostful grip
grip on my memory,
and
and it’s choking me.
Where have those
...words...
those words gone?
They have
have all but disappeared?
Those words
words that would
that would cut to the
heart
the heart of the matter
and speak of grit
grit & grime
grime & slime
And from
from time to time
even offend others
or move them
move them from something
something universal
of something human
of some common human
human struggle
or even bring
bring tears
tears to the eyes
eyes of others.
and touch something
something within
within the core of their
heart
& perhaps even
the
core of their soul.
Those words
those words are
are but a fleeting memory
memory of
me.
I can’t even grasp
grasp them anymore.
Where have they
have they
Gone?
Perhaps they’re playing hide & seek?
Yet finding them appears to be bleak.
Where have
have they
hidden?
They are just
just a fleeting
fleeting memory.
A memory that I
that I once could mold
could mold & mend.
I use to do
do so with ease.
Those allusive
...words...
Those allusive
...words...
they tease me.
they allude it’s presence
to me.
They linger
they linger & lurch
and tease me,
tease me of
of a former self.
of myself.
I long for those
those half one liners
and those
those full one liners
that would cross
cross my mind.
They’d cross & grace
grace my conscience with
with the flow of the wind.
Or as a ray of grace
grace illuminated a patch
a patch of grass
grass through the
the tree branches
on a afternoon
afternoon jog.
Or when those grace filled
grace filled words
words would flood
flood my mind
my mind with a simple
chat
with a
friend
a friend that’d utter some
some profound
profound wisdom.
And my mind
my mind would
race
race & scramble
as I’d strain
strain to retain those
those words &
wisdom.
I miss it.
I miss the poetic
the poetic thoughts
thoughts that would
that would downpour
downpour my keyboard
as I sipped
sipped on a latte
with earphones in
earphones in while
while Alanis Morissette
Miss Morissette sang
sang about
irony.
As I sit & wonder
Wonder & ponder
ponder & struggle
To write,
I can’t help but consider
How long this
block
will last?
For it’s been near a
year…
A year since I’ve been able to
...write...
But mostly I wonder
I wonder
will I ever find
find that gift
gift to write
write
ever
again?
