A Writer's Poetry

TICK TOCK: I'M BLOCKED

The ticking in my head refuses to lessen, while trapped words in my cranium twist and twirl, creating jagged lines, burrowing deeper inside the tissue unable to come out. Stuck.

Tick,

Like time slowly wasting away, my despair gives rise. I know nothing, am nothing but a ball of pity, and self-loathing, reaching for straws offered by shadows that dance on the horizon.

Tock

I wait for the implosion, for the banging in my temples to finally pound its way onto the page; yet stuck, I stare at the blank sheet, filled with a combination of wanting more, but feeling like less. Sullen, with callused fingertips, I stare, fingers poised and wait for inspiration to find me working.

Tick

The pain burns my back worse than hot grease, for the further I attempt to climb, the more my fingers slip on the tree, which I’ve planted, the tree I’ve forgotten to water, the tree that is I and we, and I succumb to the battering winds, allowing the tsunami’s waves ‘s wall to batter me black and blue. Bruised.

Tock

I wish only to regurgitate the poison I’ve taken in, that which has vanquished the once bright fire. Instead, left behind with charts, graphs and mirages, I contemplate the meaning of nuances, reflect on the pursuit of dreams – failures versus success, gains and loses.

Tick

 Overwhelmed, I finally inhale, hankering down, and  belt out my loud battle cry. Images blur behind dried eyes, while thoughts continue to ping. Peeling back the layers, then I unfortunately see, my inspiration bloodied  and gasping for its last breath. Reaching out its wise aged hand towards me, beckoning me forward, I kneel at his side, and lean in to his whisper:

“Fear knows not what you are; a vivacious woman who will always stand up. Fear cannot hold down that which wishes to arise. With the blood of kings, queens, and warriors rushing through your veins, I know that it is only the idea of failure that threatens you. Failure requires nothing but a foothold to conqueror. It is a mind game set up to tame you; to challenge your ability to achieve. Poised like a lion ready to pounce on its prey, it waits for the chance to determine your detriment.  But, a mirage of your own creation, you must take  heart and strength and continue in the pursuit of that which you seek. If  you give up, it is you who has been defeated by the threat of darkness, although no darkness was ever  in sight.”

His faded form disappeared, and in my mind’s eye, I grasped his intent. My back began to straighten. Ignoring the pain and the make-believe devilish jeers, the acid coiling in my stomach eased as if extinguished by a base.

Tock

As long as I allowed fear to control me, I would remain captive in its cage, never moving forward, just cemented in the ideas of what it all could have been.