Some days, mornings usually, I can’t get started
Nothing comes to mind
There just isn’t anything I can think of to write about
These are frustrating times
But there are a grip of ways to deal with this problem
I take a shower
I smoke cigarettes
Overload on too much caffeine
Of course, there’s always the cocktails, if all else fails
So while these are aggravating times
They are certainly better than the opposite
When the ideas and stories flow
Almost as fast as this sod can type
Ideas, ideas and more ideas
I write on napkins, scraps of paper, envelopes, etc., etc.
This, I know, hardly sounds like a bad thing
Poor guy, too many ideas, not enough time
And sometimes that’s the plain truth
However
It is almost a certainty
That along with the oh-so-many ideas
Comes a constant and nagging problem
I simply can’t finish them
None of them
I have amassed hundreds of writes — started, but never completed
And there they sit
Staring at me
Laughing at me
Reminding me of how I leave so much undone, unfinished
And like I said
To me
This is much worse than a good old-fashioned writer’s block
Writer’s block goes away — always
It may take hours, maybe even days
But eventually (and with the previously mentioned help) it ends
But the endings are a hard find
It seems to resemble my lost car keys
I look and look, but often end up no closer to the end
This is one of those days
And even now, as I write this
I can’t seem to find a way to sum it up
So I guess I’ll just leave it at that
At least I sort of found an ending
(Right next to the car keys)
I just took the easy way out
Cheap
A very cheap way out
© Dicky J Loweman 2015