Writer’s Block

Today I literally drew a blank about what to write because I pushed it off till the last minute. I’m not particularly enthusiastic about writing it, but Norman Mailer did say that writers write even on bad days. Still, treat this one with some reservations.

You are a defensive warrior.
You hold the fort patiently, fending off the hordes as they come.
You are a pernicious operator.
You sneak into my ears like a stray dog in a slum.
You are an immovable object.
Your feet are part of the rock you stand upon.
You are my writer’s block.
And you’re standing in my way.

We’ve met before, have we not?
At this very same place.
It’s clear to you, that smirk you’ve got
A reminder of my past disgrace.
You loom larger now, my shadow’s gone
Towering above me with your dick in my face.
Sucking my creativity like a leech sucks blood
Leaving behind not even the trace of a trace.
Stamping out imagination with Reason.
But what reason justifies Reason,
When I can’t create any more
And see writing as a chore,
That must be done to justify
My existence, masking the lie
That I make a difference with what I write
Except my writing is no different every single time.
The block is a slab of black marble,
As smooth as the one in 2001,
That can’t be chiseled through with the sharpest mind,
Or the strongest un.

But I know where your Achilles heel lies.
It lies at the intersection of my imagination and your reason,
Where I remember all our confrontations
And then a picture forms in my head, a picture of you
I draw this picture through words.
And then you vanish,
And I am at peace again, and try to banish
You, but I know its no use.
Because 3 months later, I will say
You are a defensive warrior.

Attribution: Blind Loneliness by ~Koran-Henshi, CC-BY-SA-3.0

(NaPoWriMo 2013 %18)


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