I’ve been cleaning out the old paper files and found this gem. I have the faintest memory of writing it. I guess I’ll keep it for the next collection. When I first took the path to being an indy author, I thought I would never have enough to fill one book. Now my third book is going to be released soon and a fourth will eventually come about as well. stuck by ann Chiappetta Being stuck sucks. Gum on the shoe, pig in the mud, tight ring on the fat finger Writer’s block words tugged out tortuously one by one like forcing recalcitrant children to obey Job block despising the daily struggle despairing of the courage needed for change wallowing in the muck of my own making unable to pull free Parent block faced with rebellion with disrespect and demands They tear into each other and I bleed I scream but they hear nothing I cry but they can’t see Their worlds revolve around their own orbits I am invisible on a different planet unless their needs demand they visit Life block Where is the joy that sparks creativity, the gladness found in favorite pastimes, the peace that comes with connecting ? I am frozen in a frigid place an ice-woman trapped in her self-imposed block with no pick no companion no promise of a meltdown blocked stuck silent. 8/14/02 stuck f .l: r Being stuck sucks. Gum on the shoe, pig in the mud, tight ring on the fat finger Writer’s block words tugged out tortuously one by one like forcing recalcitrant children to obey Job block despising the daily struggle despairing of the courage needed for change wallowing in the muck of my own making unable to pull free Parent block faced with rebellion with disrespect and demands They tear into each other and I blee I scream but they hear nothing I cry but they can’t see Their worlds revolve around their own orbits I am invisible on a different planet unless their needs demand they visit Life block Where is the joy that sparks creativity, the gladness found in favorite pastimes, the peace that comes with connecting ? I am frozen in a frigid place an ice-woman trapped in her self-imposed block with no pick no companion no promise of a meltdown blocked stuck silent. 8/14/02
Poem from the Past
| Filed under writing
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